Fallen
by SerendipityAEY
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of the most important men in the galaxy; Aala Naberrie has always been in the background. As darkness descends around them, two people who never expected to have love, have to decide if it's something worth holding out for. Can love survive even as everything else falls? Obi-Wan/OC
1. Fallen

**Title: **_Fallen**  
**_**Author:** Ashley**  
Time frame: **prequel trilogy**  
Pairings: **Obi-Wan/OC**  
Genre: **Drama/Romance**  
Summary: **Maybe it's not the happy ending that matters, maybe it's the moments in between. Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of the most important men in the galaxy; Aala Naberrie has always been in the background. As darkness descends around them, two people who never expected to have love, have to decide if it's something worth holding out for. Can love survive even as everything else falls?

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** Star Wars _was_ the property of George Lucas, is now the property of Disney. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement of rights is intended and I make no money._  
_

* * *

_-Though I've tried, I've fallen..._

_1._

Aala Naberrie sat alone on the _Sundered Heart_, her gaze fixed out the viewport. Beyond the dusty surface of Polis Massa, space was dark, and bleak, but she found it suited her mood.

With a soft hiss, the door behind her slid open, and she knew it was Obi-Wan though he made no other sound. Broken from her thoughts by his arrival, she suddenly wondered how long she had been sitting there; hours maybe and she should've expected he would be there to check on her at some point. But she couldn't bear to turn around only to see that stoic expression she knew was on his face.

"You don't have to be strong for me." Her voice was even, steady, but she wanted to scream, to yell at him – she had seen the pain in his eyes; she knew what he was feeling, could feel it in her own broken heart –_ why wouldn't he let it out?_

"I could say the same to you."

Behind his ever cultured accent, Aala could just barely detect the weariness

"Oh, yes," she said. "That breakdown I had in your arms a few hours ago - that was all a show of strength. For you." Though she wanted to roll her eyes at him, she still couldn't face him, so she resisted.

"And now?" His voice was soft, so low, but urging somehow. Patiently coaxing her to understand.

After a long, silent moment she finally turned and stared at him, held his gaze as long as she could, then looked away, sighing. "I feel numb." And she knew he had made her answer her own unspoken question. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she turned back to the viewport, preferring to face the desolation of outer space. Right now it seemed a warmer companion than Obi-Wan.

A second later she heard the door slide closed. _Fine. Let him go. _In the back of her mind, she knew he hadn't offered any more support because he knew she wouldn't have accepted it, anyway. That only made her angrier.

She hated him for always being right, for always being so calm and in control.

She hated Padmé for giving in to her heart, letting herself fall so far.

And most of all she hated Anakin for what he had let himself become, for everything he had done.

Aala didn't believe in regret – or at least she hadn't before she saw her sister's lifeless body lying on that cold table in that cold room. Now, it consumed her, harsh and unforgiving. Suddenly, she regretted every single decision she had ever made, every step that had led her to this point in time, and she was desperate to get back to that place, so recently found, where she could accept what life had given her, accept the path she had taken.

But she couldn't find even the tiniest shred of hope anywhere inside her.

Inevitably, her mind drifted back to Obi-Wan Kenobi. The hero, The Negotiator, the Jedi Master that could accomplish anything, and did. He had joked good-naturedly whenever anyone mentioned his hero status, modest to a fault, but still he played each role.

The war had changed him, it had changed everyone. And now he'd lost as much as anyone.

_War will leave you with nothing, whether you win or not._

Shaking the thought, Aala let herself dwell on the last time she had talked to Obi-Wan before everything went to hell. It was the first time she'd even spoken to him in a month. She hadn't seen him since Cato Neimoidia.

Her mind was absorbed with doubt. Maybe if she'd said something different, been able to put into words what her instincts had been telling her... Maybe she could've convinced him to stay.

* * *

_Backing further into the shadows of the great halls of the Senate buildings, she gripped her comlink tightly in her hand and leaned back, letting the marble wall hold her up. "It's a trap," she said grimly, "you know that."_

_Of course he knew._

"_Textbook..." she trailed off._

"_Yes." His voice crackled slightly over the comm._

'How did I even get to this point?' _she asked herself. _'How does a quiet girl from Naboo get to know military strategies so intimately?' _"I – I wish you wouldn't go." She said it quietly, unaccustomed to voicing such statements directed toward him._

"_Don't worry. I have a little trap of my own."_

_He always did._

"_Anyway, I hear Utapau is nice this time of year; and I'll be back soon," he said, trying to sound light hearted._

_She smiled in spite of herself. "I hope so."_

"_You'll miss me that much?" He teased._

_She couldn't help but smile again and shook her head. Who else could be on his way to meet the 'Jedi Killer' face to face and act like it was just a stroll in the park? "I won't miss you a bit, Kenobi. I just – I feel like you're needed here."_

"_Well, it's a shame there aren't two of me."_

_Indeed._

_She had trouble adopting his light attitude, or, at least, the act. He would not have called her unless it was imperative. He certainly didn't need to check in with her before he left for missions. Tired of the routine, she outright called his bluff. "You must feel it, too, Obi-Wan, or we wouldn't be talking."_

_There was a pause. When he spoke again, his voice was serious, grave, any and all lightness was gone. "Aala, this war will not end with General Grievous out there."_

_Annoyed, she sighed quietly and wondered if he really believed that line or if it was his orders talking. "With Dooku dead, the Confederacy won't hold together for long;" she argued, "he was their driving force. Grievous does not have the ability to direct the Separatists in galactic war."_

"_We must face the possibility there might be someone else..." _

_She knew that tone; he knew more, but couldn't say, not over a comm, and not to her; and she knew the rumors – unthinkable, but undeniable. Anyway, if it were true, it still made Grievous nearly irrelevant in her mind, a minor player in the game, but she knew Obi-Wan didn't have the time to debate war tactics with her. It was obvious he couldn't discuss it with her now. The decision had already been made._

"_I know what you're thinking," he said, "but either way, Grievous needs to be taken care of. It will force the end game." He paused. "Everyone seems to think I'm the one to capture him, so, I'll do what I must."_

_She certainly couldn't argue with that. If anyone could do it, Obi-Wan could. And now she understood why he had contacted her; the end was near. She sighed quietly. "May the Force be with you General Kenobi."_

_And then the entire galaxy had come crashing down around them._

* * *

He found her unintentionally, an hour later in a dark room with a table and a galley, a cup of something, he could only assume something very strong, clutched in her hands. He paused when she noticed him, a grim expression on her face as she stared him down.

"Two minutes?" he asked, his tone conciliatory. She owed him at least that much.

Her mouth quirked as she looked back down at her cup and she nodded, the tiniest of smiles gracing her face. It didn't last.

"How's the caf?" he asked spotting the pot on the counter.

"Disgusting. I made it myself."

He poured himself some anyway and stood across from her, watching. She had never seemed able to cope very well with any situation concerning her sister. She had been to war, faced the Senate, faced the Council even, and seen the worst the galaxy had to offer all without blinking an eye but if her sister was involved...her careful control fell apart. She'd lost as many friends as he had, and moved on as gracefully as any Jedi, but her sister... this she was not able to bear.

"I never told you..." Aala started, breaking the heavy silence.

With the mug of caf warming his hands, Obi-Wan leaned against the counter and waited.

"Why I came to Coruscant...it wasn't just for work, I didn't care about being an ambassador."

He knew that wasn't true. She loved her job and she was good at it, but he didn't say anything.

"And it wasn't to see you," she looked up at him, that look of defiance he knew well. Was she trying to bait him? He kept quiet.

Her expression changed, softened. "I never expected to run into you..." She stared at him, lost in thought. Then turned, staring off into nothing.

"It was for her... I couldn't stop worrying about her after the blockade. I just wanted to be close if I could... I'd had nightmares for weeks. Really bad nightmares..." Aala paused and rubbed her temples, pressing her face into her hands.

"Please tell me this is a nightmare..."

He couldn't. So, he sat down across from her and grasped her hand in his, holding tight. "I wish I could."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've been sitting on this for years, couldn't work up the courage to post the first time around, I think, because it felt really different and I didn't know if it would even make sense. It's written as a series of moments, and the first parts are sort of in order emotionally, rather than chronologically. I hope the writing can overcome this and convey the story I'm trying to tell. All feedback is welcome; please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

_Lyrics from Fallen by Sarah McLachlan_


	2. Chapter 2

_2._

_- And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow_

She knew the moment he walked into the room, but she didn't look up. It scared her, just a little...to think that she was so connected to him. But she'd never admit that out loud. So, she simply continued with her paperwork.

Politics were rarely what Aala considered 'exciting' but she felt like she had finally found something she was good at and she was eager to do well. Officially she was an Ambassador to Alderaan. Although she was born on Naboo, she had moved to Alderaan when she was 15 to study. In reality, her job consisted mostly of assisting the Vice Roy.

Though the Senator she was meeting with today wasn't known for his even temper, she wasn't expecting much trouble. He was there with assistants of his own, so a Jedi Knight had been commissioned as a mediator and a representative of the Republic.

When Obi-Wan took the seat next to her, and she felt his gaze on her, she finally gave in.

"Master Kenobi." She smiled, finally looking up.

"Ambassador Naberrie," he returned, nodding politely.

And that was it, although their eyes held the conversation a second longer. His faced showed no emotion, but she could see it all in his eyes...something she'd learned how to do very quickly. The memory of the night she had met him flashed briefly in her mind. It was on Naboo right after the attacks by the Trade Federation... right after his Master died, almost one year ago. She'd mistaken his dispassionate expression for actual coldness, hadn't seen the pain hidden deep in the blue-gray depths of his eyes, and she was still sorry for the way she had acted in return.

* * *

_A gentle wind blew across the dark, grass covered hills of Naboo. The sound of water crashing on the rocks below Theed could be heard, but the dark night hid the waterfalls from easy view. She sat near the side of the cliff, between the hangar and the river. The wind tossed her long blonde hair into her face, but she made no effort to hold it back. She stared out at the star-filled sky before her, seemingly lost in thought._

_He watched her quietly. Though he stood not far behind her, she seemed oblivious to his presence. Finding her had been easy enough, she was a beacon, but now he was loathe to disturb the peacefulness that surrounded her. Closing his eyes, he reached out with the Force and was immediately surprised at the awareness he sensed in her. Startled, he opened his eyes to find she had turned her head in his direction._

_"Hello..."_

_He blinked. "Hello."_

_When he didn't say anything else, she turned fully to look at him, her eyebrows raised. _

_Maybe not so peaceful._

_"Umm..." he cleared his throat. "The Queen sent me to find you. When you weren't in your room as she expected, she became concerned."_

_"Oh," Aala said, her tone cynical. "I didn't think she even remembered I was here." Turning back to face the sky, she hugged her knees to her chest _

_He was surprised by her openness. "Miss Naberrie, Queen Amidala has a responsibility to her people, she is merely doing her duty."_

_"And what about her family?" she challenged, turning to face him again. She set her jaw stubbornly and he could sense her frustration, her anger, her fear of almost losing someone so dear to her... someone who didn't understand... _

_...it was as if a mirror had been placed in front of him. He didn't know what to say._

_"Nevermind." She sighed. "I wouldn't expect you to understand." _

_"What do you mean by that?" He knew what, it was a common enough perception, but he was curious if she would actually say it out loud. _

_"You're a Jedi. Naturally I would expect you to know more about duty than family." She crossed her arms tightly across her body, defiance in her eyes. He simply stared her down, refusing to be drawn into an argument._

_She sighed deeply and glanced off into the darkness. "You can tell her I'm fine. _

_"I'd feel much better if you came back with me and told her yourself. It's not safe for you to be out here alone."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Master Kenobi, may I remind you I've done quite fine without you for nearly 21 years, and while I may not be a Jedi Knight, I'm certainly capable of taking care of myself." _

_"Miss Naberrie," he said firmly, "may I remind you, it was only a few days ago this planet was under attack and while I'm sure you do quite well under normal circumstances, outside the palace, unarmed on a dark night is simply asking for trouble." She was either very brave or simply very naive, but either way he wasn't going to leave her out there by herself. _

* * *

Now, he knew it was both, watching her negotiate with a more than difficult opponent. Perhaps 'naive' wasn't the right word. She certainly wasn't ignorant about the state of affairs of the galaxy. It was more an optimism she held onto. And he liked that about her. She believed everything would turn out alright and she was brave enough to go out into the galaxy and do something to make sure she wasn't proven wrong.

Aala had come back with him that night, as he wished, and he hadn't been offended when she had snapped at him. Just reminded of how well he really did know what she was feeling. And that had unsettled him... just a little. And he'd been more than surprised, although he thought he hid it well, when she sought him out the next day to apologize. The first of many surprises from Aala Naberrie.

The second surprise had been when he fell for her. He hid that best of all.

Jedi were not allowed attachments. He didn't need to remind himself of that. It came as natural as breathing. Some might think that was cold, but he knew she understood that was who he was.

He watched her discuss politics and procedures with the authority of someone twice her age and experience. They came to an agreement far sooner then he would've expected.

Amused, he questioned her as to why he was even there.

"We have to pretend you Jedi are good for something," she said with a mischievous smile.

He chuckled. "We are a useless bunch, aren't we."

She laughed, gathering her papers and books, then turned more serious, holding them to her chest. "Perhaps it's just for peace of mind. I know you're not any good at politics." They shared a moment. "But, thank you."

"Of course. Can I walk you out?"

"Oh, that's alright.. My office is just a few floors down. I wouldn't want to hold you up."

"Alright."

She held his gaze, saying a million things with one look, things he knew he would never hear her say out loud. "I'll see you soon." She touched his arm and left, without looking back.

And the third surprise...

...the third surprise had been when she had let him go – every time she let him go without saying a word. The irony was, that only made him care for her that much more.

Of course, Aala wasn't so bad at hiding things herself.

* * *

Obiwanabi - Thanks! Lots more history to be revealed...

_Lyrics from Iris-The Goo Goo Dolls_


	3. Chapter 3

_-If you go now, I'll understand. If you stay, hey, I got a plan._

3.

He watched her as he made their tea. The sun had already dipped below the skyline of the Senate District, and it was starting to get dark. Aala stood on the balcony of her apartment, watching the traffic and the lights - and thinking...what? He wasn't sure.

A chance meeting – he saw her every once in awhile, had even worked with her a few times, but usually they were too busy to stop for even a moment – this time had been different. He only bumped into her at the Senate building that afternoon. That had led to a cup of caf, which had led to dinner later that evening, which led to him bringing her a cup of tea on her balcony... and... then what?

Handling the hot tea carefully, he stepped out into the cool night air. There was a breeze; it ruffled his hair, a little longer now than before. She thanked him and smiled as he handed her the extra cup. She sipped it and turned back toward the air lanes of Coruscant.

He wondered if she would ask him to stay. He was afraid she wouldn't. He was afraid she would get hurt if he did.

The thought truly hadn't entered his mind until they had walked into her apartment and she had shut and locked the door behind them. He quickly and easily recalled the last time they had been this alone. They had been on Naboo; he had stayed to help oversee the restoration of order and take a reprieve himself after the vigor of the last few weeks and a day or two to grieve for the loss of his master. Turns out it was quite easy to loose yourself in that palace.

He told himself he had felt the need to keep an eye on her, but if he was being honest, he was drawn to her. Curious about her - her honesty, her recklessness, her eyes... and she had a knack for finding him. Though she had promised she wouldn't leave the palace again, one night she disappeared, without telling him, and twisted her ankle slipping on the rain slicked rocks on the way back. It took him too long to find her and she was not in good condition.

Later, in her room, with her ankle wrapped and her body beginning to warm again, she had asked him to stay. And he had. The kiss was unexpected. He couldn't remember who had moved first.

"_Stay," she whispered, her breath caressing his lips, her deep blue eyes searching his face._

"_I – "_ _How had they gotten this close? He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, could feel the heat from the flush that now spread from her face and down the column of her neck. Brushing her hair away from her temple he moved his hand to press his palm against her cheek. He didn't know what to say._

_She seemed to sense this, and pulled back a little, giving him space. "Obi-Wan... I know you can't give me anything. I just want to be with you, even if it's only for one night."_

_He lost himself in the sincerity of her eyes. "I don't have to leave for two." He couldn't resist teasing her._

_She smiled slowly. "Alright, two."_

"It's getting late." Or maybe he was getting impatient. Except he was a Jedi and Jedi weren't impatient; Obi-Wan Kenobi was not impatient.

Finally, she turned to him. She looked down, then boldly met his gaze. "You don't have to go."

And yet he hesitated.

But she smiled. "Nothing's changed, Obi-Wan. I know nothing's changed. I don't want anything from you; I just want to be with you, even if it's only tonight." She said those words like she had been planning them forever, but he thought he could still see a hint of uncertainty on her face.

"I don't want to hurt you." There. He said it.

"I'm tougher than I look," she answered surely. "Besides," she shrugged and her eyes took on a mischievous glint, "it's nothing we haven't done before."

But it had been easier before, when he was younger, and hurting, and they were so isolated, they might as well have been in their own little galaxy; and when he knew he'd be leaving the planet in a matter of days.

"_Aala," her name was an affirmation, a caress, a plea. He drew his arm tight around her, pulling her body close to his. Their eyes locked and he studied the blue depths, searching for any reason he shouldn't do what he was about to do, but he could find nothing. Her innocence was real, her desire was pure, her understanding was clear._

And it was the same now, and in the middle of the night, when there was nowhere he had to be, faced with the promise of her soft smile, and the knowledge that she would, in fact, be able to let him go in the morning, he couldn't come up with a reason to resist.

"Aala..." his voice was husky as he brushed his fingertips across her cheek and slid his hand into her hair, pulling her close with his other arm. She closed her eyes and leaned into his body, and he brushed his nose against the sensitive skin just below her ear, nuzzling her neck and rubbing his stubbled cheek against her softer one. "Aala – " he repeated, nipping at her earlobe. She shuddered in his arms, and he pulled her even closer, whispering, her skin warm against his lips. " – there are about a dozen things I want to do to you that we never got the chance to do before."

* * *

She lay in the peacefulness of Obi-Wan's arms, but sleep evaded her. In the few years since they had reunited on Coruscant, these opportunities seemed to come very few and far between - she sometimes felt like all they had were a series of stolen moments, but then she had always known that this would be the way of things.

For once, their schedules had co-ordinated. She'd just returned from Naboo. With the Senate relatively quiet and her work at a lull, she'd quickly decided a brief visit home was in order and long over due. Obi-Wan had been away, off-planet, and they'd happened to return at the same time. She was loathe to just sleep through the short amount of time she had with him.

The problem, however, was that it gave her mind time to wander. And wander it did – into territory she really didn't want to dwell over.

Usually, she would tell herself it didn't matter, that she had never wanted a family of her own, anyway_._ There was no room for children in this life, or any other she had ever dreamt up for herself. And that was the end of it, and she would move on. Usually.

But now, laying here in the dark, all she could think about was her family. She'd forgotten how good it felt - her father's stories, her mother's laugh, Sola's teasing and her children... they were simply beautiful – bright, shining lights. She loved her nieces so much. And she couldn't help but wonder what if.

She shifted under the blanket, sliding closer to Obi-Wan's warm body and wrapping her arm tight around his waist. But even if she was with someone else, someone who was not bound by duty as Obi-Wan was, even if, it wouldn't matter. Her fate had been decided long ago. In the blink of an eye, her entire life had altered course.

Telling Obi-Wan had been hard, although she couldn't remember why. They'd really only known each other for a couple days and she certainly hadn't had any expectations of him. Maybe she felt they'd both already experienced too much pain; she wanted nothing more than to leave it all in the past.

_The first twinges of regret were beginning to seep their way into Obi-Wan's consciousness. The lights had long ago been turned out, and the heavy clouds outside hid whatever light may have come from the Nubian moons. Obi-Wan lay on his back staring through the darkness to the ceiling. Sleep was elusive. Aala lay curled on her side, blankets pulled securely up over her shoulder, facing away from him. _

_He didn't think she was asleep, either. She had drifted off after... well, *after* but now she seemed restless._

_This was awkward. At best. _

_His thoughts returned to his doubts, despite what she had said. Had he taken advantage of her? After all, she was hurt, emotionally distraught and alone..._

_He felt sick to his stomach, he hadn't thought he was taking advantage of her at the time..._

_What if – she did fall in love with him? _

_What if she became attached? _

_What if she wanted more?_

_The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, break her heart, cause her more pain._

_What if..._

"_Oh, blast..." he muttered to himself as a very alarming thought suddenly popped into his head. How could he have been such a fool?_

_Aala chose that moment to turn toward him. "Obi?" Her voice sounded small and fragile. Maybe if he didn't move, he could simply disappear into the bed. "Are you awake?" She whispered._

"_Yes," he breathed. When she didn't say anything, he finally turned toward her. She was lying on her side, her head resting on her hands, the blankets still pulled up over her shoulders._

"_You..." she started. "I mean – I . . ." She took a deep breath. "I couldn't bear it if you regretted this." She said in a hurry._

"_I don't," he assured her, then berated himself in his head. 'How quick I am to lie to a beautiful woman,' he thought. "I just, Aala, we didn't... we weren't..." Even in the dark, he could see her eyes grow wide as he fumbled for the right words, 'she's probably wondering what in space I am trying to say' "Were you... protected?"_

"_Oh," she blinked. "I, uh–" she stammered. "Umm, I..." she shook her head, a pained expression contorting her soft features. "I can't... have children..." _

_He was dumbfounded; he hadn't been expecting that._

_Or the pain that was now evident on her face. _

"_I'm sorry," she continued. "I should've told you." She swallowed. "I was in an accident, awhile ago..." she trailed off._

_It didn't matter, he could guess the rest. The look on her face was heartbreaking and it was obvious he still had so much to learn. How many lessons had she taught him in just the few short days he had known her?_

"_It's alright," he reached out to her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. And he had only been worried about himself, what any of this might mean for him, for his own morals. He felt like a jerk._

"_It was a shuttle crash. I don't remember any of it. There - there were only a few survivors." _

_There were no words that could fix this atrocity, that could make any of what had happened to her any better. So, he simply held her in his arms. They had both lost so much._

_He felt a tear drop on his chest and they laid in silence together for a long time, until Aala turned in his embrace to look up at him. She wiped the tears off her cheek. "I don't want to think about the past. Or the future. None of that matters to me right now." She moved to press her lips against his, and he kissed her back. Letting the blankets fall away, she rested her body flush against his, pulling him deeper into the kiss._

_They came together in a slow, quiet way that melted his heart; he'd never known peace like this._

_Dawn found them still awake, Aala sat on the bed facing Obi-Wan, her knees pulled up to her chest, wearing his thin undershirt. He was lying with his head propped up on his hand, the doubts he'd had only a few hours ago no longer plagued him. The daylight brought new understanding._

_She laughed when he told her he worried he had taken advantage of her. "I twisted my ankle, and I was angry my sister wasn't doing what I wanted her to do."_

"_She could have been killed." He said half incredulously._

"_But she wasn't, she wasn't even injured. You've been through a lot more. Maybe it is I who am taking advantage of you." She smiled poking him in the chest._

_He grabbed her hand pulling her towards him. "Not likely," he said, laughing._

_She smiled and laid down next to him on her back. His hand drifted to her stomach and he hesitated, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but his curiosity won out in the end. He had made the decision to never have a family. What would it feel like to have it taken away? To never have the choice? _

_Resting the palm of his hand against the curve of her stomach, he looked down then back up at her. She sighed covering his hand with her own. "I never really thought that much about having children, not like my sisters. Maybe I knew somehow, that it wasn't in the cards for me. It would just be nice to have the option..." She smiled again, reassuring him. "I'm okay with it. I just wasn't expecting to have to answer that question last night." Her smile grew wider, "You must've been going crazy with worry."_

"_It's not funny, I would've been cast out of the Order!" _

_She turned serious. "For one mistake? Everyone makes mistakes. Even Jedi Knights."_

"_That would be a pretty big mistake, and the council is not terribly forgiving."_

_She sighed and looked away. "We shouldn't have done this." _

_He caught her chin in his fingers and turned her head so she would meet his eyes. "No regrets, remember? I'm not allowed to become attached, have a relationship. Duty comes first, I can't promise you anything, I can't - I can't come see you. But I won't forget you or what this means to me."_

_She nodded and he knew that was all she wanted._

She breathed deeply and Obi-wan stirred. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her close to him, then running his fingers through the ends of her hair. "What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.

"Naboo," was her simple answer.

He understood.

* * *

_Lyrics from Bon Jovi-__(You Want To) Make a Memory_


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** charliebrown1234 - Thank you so much. I know a lot of people stay far far away from OC's so I'm really glad you took a chance and read my story. I've worked really hard on making Aala a complete character and part of a story I really wanted to tell. Thanks for letting me know, I appreciate it so much!

This is the last of what I already had written and typed (i.e. it only needed to be edited) except for the end but I've been working hard and have written a lot since I started posting so hopefully I won't slow down too much Please let me know what you think! This part's a little fluffy

* * *

_-Save the last dance, the very last dance, for me_.

_4.  
_

She was simply stunning. The sapphire blue dress she wore was breathtaking. The bodice laced all the way up her back and was fitted, leaving her shoulders bare, and showing off her figure. The skirt flared at her hips and was made of some flowy material, swirling around her long legs when she spun.

He was not ashamed to say he had been watching her all night – he certainly wasn't the only man in the room who couldn't keep his eyes off her. Her hair was swept up, sleek blonde curls escaping to fall around her face and the nape of her neck. He was fairly certain her feet would be quite sore by now; he had seen her dance with at least four partners in the last hour.

Of course, he wasn't worried. He told himself it was because if she found someone – a good man – he would be happy for her, which was true, but deep down he knew she would never find anyone else, if only because she was never looking. Allowing himself to wonder why seemed mostly pointless.

The song ended; she smiled brilliantly, curtsied politely and promptly excused herself, expertly dodging a handsome young politician who seemed to be headed in her direction.

He chuckled softly; she certainly knew how to take care of herself. Confident in that, he turned his attention to scan the rest of the room. His job here was two-fold, as always. A Jedi or two were usually required to attend these sort of diplomatic functions for security – but also partly because it looked good for the Order. It was important to keep up social relations with the Senate... and it bored Obi-Wan to death.

However, there did seem to be one bright spot.

He made the rounds, including the obligatory small talk with a few Senators, and with the party beginning to wind down, he found himself looking for Aala again.

Strangely enough, he didn't find her on the dance floor. And when he didn't see her anywhere else in the room, he reached out with the Force. His senses led him to a set of doors at the back of the room that opened to what he assumed was a balcony.

For whatever reason, he made sure no one was paying him any attention, then slipped outside.

Aala was leaning against the low wall, staring out at the city. Thankfully, she was alone on the balcony.

"Hiding?" he questioned, a wry smile on his face.

She turned at the sound of his voice, and smiled warmly when she met his gaze. "Yes, but you found me."

"I can leave," he gestured to the door, "if you like."

"No," she reached out to grab his arm. "Actually, I need you." She said dramatically.

He grinned. "You 'need' me?"

"You're my only hope."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's a long story..."

He shrugged. "I've got all night."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, her eyes sparkling. "See, Padmé gave me this lecture this morning about not having enough gowns and not, I don't know, fulfilling my beauty potential, or some such nonsense. So, she insisted I attend this thing and she picked this dress out herself," Aala picked up her skirt and twirled, showing it off, "and made me wear it."

"I must thank her the next time I see her."

"Flatterer." She laughed. "Anyway, she let me borrow Ellé," Aala turned again, displaying the intricate laces and knots holding her dress together in the back, "for obvious reasons, but now there's been some sort of emergency and, well, I'm stuck. They abandoned me." She shrugged. "There's no way I can get out of this dress myself. So," she moved closer to him, and lowered her voice, "I need to ask a favor."

He waited, a glint in his eyes.

"Will you help me get his dress off?"

"Here?" he pointed to the ground, feigning ignorance.

"Nooo... preferably at home."

"Hmm," he pretended to think about it. "What's in it for me?"

"You're a Jedi! You act without thought of reward or self. Besides, I can barely breathe and my feet are killing me. I imagine I'll be quite agreeable once I get out of here – and this." She smoothed the fabric cinched around her waist.

He couldn't resist a little good natured teasing. "Oh really? It looked to me like you were enjoying yourself out on the dance floor. The belle of the ball."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes then paused. "You're not... jealous... are you?" She looked up at him innocently.

"Of course not. I have no reason to be."

She smiled. He could be quite charming when he wanted to be.

Leaning in, he whispered, his lips close to her ear." Just make sure to save the last dance for me."

Their eyes met and for a moment, he thought he might like to kiss her.

"Give me 15 minutes," Obi-Wan said, straightening, "and I'll have you out of here."

"Deal," Aala answered, her blue eyes shining. "To both," he heard her whisper as she watched him walk away.

* * *

If nothing else, he certainly had a new respect for handmaidens. Not only were the laces difficult for his calloused fingertips, it seemed nearly impossible for Aala to actually stand still for more than 5 seconds.

Almost on cue, she squirmed under his touch, her hand coming up to rub at a spot on the back of her neck.

"Aala, darling," his breath stirred the wisps of hair behind her ear as he leaned closer, holding her shoulders in an effort to still them. "If you don't stop wiggling, this'll take twice as long as it should."

"Well, stop breathing on me," she complained. "It tickles."

He chuckled going back to work on her dress, nearing the halfway point.

"Besides, I thought you said you had all night."

"I did, but now that we're here I really think there are better ways we could be spending our time."

She turned her head flashing him a knowing smile, and he winked. Clasping her head in his hands, he turned her away, "Now don't move."

She rested her forearms on the door frame and arched her back drawing his attention to the span of smooth, pale skin. "At least you're not wearing anything underneath," he muttered picturing complicated corsets with millions of tiny hooks.

"Nothing would fit." She grumbled.

It was almost an entire two minutes she had managed to stay still when Obi-Wan's fingers slipped from the tight knot he was struggling with. "Blast," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, wait!" Aala suddenly turned to him, holding her loosening dress to her chest. "We never danced."

Obi-Wan paused. "Don't tell me you want me to lace that thing back up."

"No," she smiled. "Here, just -" she pressed her lower body close to his, "hold me close," she finished, moving her arm from between them and pulling him into a tight embrace.

He gave her a look that plainly said this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. "There's no music." He pointed out.

"Please? I promised."

He sighed, wrapping his arm around her. "Alright."

Silence fell around them like a warm blanket, comfortable and calming. Aala pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her arm around his waist. They swayed gently, not really moving, her dress was in too precarious a position for any real dancing.

He pressed one hand to her lower back, where the laces were still tied, to help keep her body close to his. The other hand he let drift across her back and up to her shoulders. His thumb swept across the nape of her neck, then dipped lower, following the line of her spine. Her skin was unbelievably soft and he couldn't help but briefly wonder how many other men tonight had done the same thing, had the same thoughts. He dismissed the idea just as quickly. It really didn't matter.

Accidentally, his fingers brushed against the long scar that started in the middle of her back and wrapped around her body, ending, he knew, just below her belly button and she flinched. Her head snapped up and she looked at him and he knew she was biting her tongue. The scar and the accident bothered her more than she would admit, and she didn't like to talk about it, but her agitation disappeared almost as quickly as it had arose. "Sorry," she mumbled, chagrined, "it tickled."

He kissed her temple and guided her head back to his shoulder. "It's alright."

Feeling her relax again, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and counted himself lucky one more quiet night could be spent with this woman in his arms. He closed his eyes and let his fingers drift together over the tight laces at her waist, deftly continuing to untie them.

"What would Master Yoda say if he knew you were using the Force to undress me?" Lifting her head again, she met his eyes.

Obi-Wan let out a low chuckle. "I didn't know you were paying attention."

She smirked, clasping her hands behind his neck. "A girl tends to notice those kinds of things. It's not every man that can literally undress you with his mind – wait – I think that's..." She took a step back, grasping the material at her hips, and shimmied, tugging the dress inch by inch down her body.

One more lace, he knew, and the dress would have slipped off, but she simply lacked the patience for that. He was beginning to wonder if there wasn't some other reason her borrowed handmaiden had to leave her so suddenly.

"There!" With a flourish, the dress fell past her hips and she whipped it back up again holding it against her body. "I better hang this up." She turned to go into the bedroom and he got a very nice view of her backside, barely covered in a scrap of lace.

She turned her head just as she entered the room. "Coming?"

* * *

_Lyrics by Michael Bublé - Save the Last Dance For Me_


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you so much for the feedback! This is a re-post of Part 5; I did decide to add some context to the beginning. I didn't want to change the structure of the story, this is still just a story about two people and their feelings but I think the additions and edits do make it a more complete story. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think everyone ;)

* * *

_-Please don't change, please don't break. The only thing that seems to work at all is you._

_5._

_A moment in the life of an accomplished and unflappable High Jedi General._

The panic in Anakin's voice when he'd said Padmé's name as she was being taken hostage had been Obi-Wan's first indication (that month) that, yes, Anakin's feelings were not what they should be and, yes, they were affecting him.

When Anakin made the decision to abort the planned attack, despite the Senator's impassioned plea that he continue with the mission, Obi-Wan took note and filed it away to contemplate later – maybe at a time when there wasn't an important Galactic Senator of the Republic in mortal danger. But it wasn't the decision that concerned him – it was the way Anakin had struggled with it.

Aboard General Grievous' war cruiser, Anakin had impetuously bounded off after the Senator, without hesitation, hell-bent on rescue, leaving Obi-Wan to risk life and limb to rescue his droid. And when Anakin had reached her, they had clung to each other, oblivious to the fact that Obi-Wan was watching. And when he saw the way they were gazing into each others eyes, he decided maybe he should say something to Anakin after all.

But then the enemy ship was destroyed, Senator Amidala was taken out of harm's way, the droid was rescued and they were headed back to relative safety. Did the outcome justify the means? Did success make the details extraneous? Obi-Wan wasn't sure but he felt a headache coming on and his arm was beginning to ache. '_Must've been a stray blaster bolt,_' he sighed to himself. '_I think I need a nap_.'

* * *

_A moment in the life of a resourceful and effective Ambassador/etc._

Surely, it was a strong testament to her fortitude that she had felt only slightly out of place and uncomfortable as she followed her young padawan escort through the vaulted hallways of the Jedi Temple. Stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets, Aala tenaciously resisted the urge to stare up in childish wonder at the shining atrium as they passed underneath. Sunlight filtered through the high transparisteel windows casting an ethereal glow on the glossy marble tile floors below.

She knew she was being silly, the Jedi Temple wasn't anymore resplendent than the Senate Building. At least not on the surface. But it felt different – vital. The Senate Building felt heavy and dim, weighed down by the arguing, the greed, the endless bureaucracy. The Temple was awash of brilliancy.

She was ushered into a room where Jedi Master Mace Windu sat alone, datapad in hand. She had met him a handful of times before. He was the only one that intimidated her, if she were to let herself be intimidated. That's what she told herself, anyway. "Master Windu," she greeted him.

"I spoke with Senator Organa this morning," he answered, bypassing formalities. "He said you've been working with Republic Intelligence. He recommended you as a liaison officer but he indicated there was something more."

Aala took a breath, wanting to be certain how she phrased it. "Isard has made it clear he is entirely loyal to the Chancellor and with the Security Act back on the table, and likely to pass, we felt it might be prudent to... get ahead of the game." It was apparent Armand Isard, the Director of the Senate Bureau of Intelligence, was close to the Chancellor and that gave Aala no measure of comfort and the fact that Palpatine seemed to have so much influence, so much control, was a little frightening. "Chancellor Palpatine is on the brink of unprecedented power. At SBI, if... anything... were to happen, I might be in a position to find out and notify... someone... before it was too late."

"I see."

"The point is, what we're proposing isn't anything illicit – not **yet**."

"Do you have a plan?" he sat back in his chair, regarding her.

"Be discreet, pay attention, and take advantage of any opportunity that crosses my path. Hopefully, our concerns prove unnecessary, but even if that's true, I feel I can contribute a lot more to the effort at Intelligence than as an Ambassador."

He nodded, but at the same time, almost imperceptibly, his eyes narrowed and she tried not to fidget as he studied her. He was silent for what felt like ages. Maybe he was using the Force to assess her worthiness. Or maybe he was just admiring the fit of her new jacket. Most likely the former.

"I see no harm in having someone we know we can trust at Intelligence and I know you're capable of making reports. I'll discuss it with the Council and we'll be in touch."

Dismissed, she nodded respectfully and turned to leave. The padawan waited dutifully just outside the door and she followed him wordlessly back to the main entrance. The hard part was over. At least that's what she liked to tell herself.

* * *

From the window of her small apartment in the center of the Senate District, she could see the bright lights of the staging area for the clone troops, always bright as mid-day. More clones were arriving and being deployed every week. Maybe she had been naïve, but the war was escalating far faster than she had ever imagined it would; there was no end in sight.

Sighing, Aala moved to sit down on her couch and allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment. There was more work she needed to finish tonight but she decided she could put it off for a little while longer.

Just beginning to relax, the sound of her keypad from the hallway aroused her. There was only one other person who knew her key code. The door slid open and she whipped her head around, startled.

"Obi-Wan," she exclaimed. An unexpected wave of relief washed over her.

"Hello." He smiled warily.

Standing up, she wasted no time in going to him and wrapping her arms around him tightly. Simply put, he looked like he needed a hug.

He took a deep breath and she felt his shoulders slump as he returned her embrace.

Leaning back, her eyes swept over his tired form; he looked completely worn. "I didn't even know you were here," she murmured. Her hand grazed his arm as she loosened her hold on him and he winced.

"You're hurt," she said, concern in her voice.

"It's nothing, just a scratch."

Her brow furrowed.

"Really, it's fine."

"Alright." She conceded reluctantly. "Are you hungry? I could throw something together."

"No, just something to drink is fine." He sat down at her small square table.

"Wine? Tea?" she asked.

"Wine." Removing his cloak, he draped it over the chair, while she poured him a glass and topped off her own.

She sat down next to him at the table. "I thought - " she started, " - I heard Padmé was with you."

"She was. She was caught in a trap and captured but managed to escape - Anakin helped her."

Aala sighed heavily and rubbed her hand over her face. "She never fails to find herself entangled in the most dangerous situations. I swear..."

A sympathetic smile crossed his face. "I sometimes feel Anakin is the same way. When was the last time you saw her?" he asked her cautiously.

Aala shook her head, shrugging, "About two weeks ago, I think."

Obi-Wan frowned, deep in thought. "Does she ever - talk - about Anakin?"

She took a sip of her wine and stared down at the table. "No."

"Not at all?" he pressed her.

Aala let out a resigned sigh. "Obi-Wan, I can't tell you anything you don't already know. She might've mentioned him a time or two, but she doesn't talk about him, not to me."

It irritated her, and she was even slightly ashamed, that her sister didn't tell her what was going on in her life, but part of her was relieved she didn't have to choose between betraying Padmé and lying to Obi-Wan because if she knew anything about Padmé, it was that she didn't do anything half way.

He was quiet for a few minutes and she watched him carefully.

"I want him to be happy. I do. But sometimes I worry his feelings have already taken him too far."

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and chewed on it thoughtfully. It was obvious how much this was bothering him, and she didn't blame him, it bothered her too, but she didn't have any answers. Her and her sister were so different in so many ways. "I don't know. But she is an expert at finding trouble." She smiled sadly. "And Anakin, well..."

"Mmm." He agreed. "Speaking of finding trouble... I saw you at the Temple today."

"Yes." She hesitated. "I'm working with Republic Intelligence now."

"Intelligence?" he repeated, mildly surprised. "Do you have experience with that?"

Aala gave him a look. "Always the tone of surprise," she quipped. "I took some Intelligence courses at University. Intel analysis in the private sector can be quite lucrative, you know." She smiled at him. "But, I decided to use my powers for good, instead."

He sipped his wine, still clearly bemused. "When was this decided?"

"It was Bail's suggestion. And I'm, um, liaising... with the Council." She looked at him and she knew he had caught her implication. That put her right in the center of a situation that was rapidly becoming more and more heated every day. It wasn't of the obvious, violent variety, but it was trouble all the same.

"You look exhausted," she commented, eager to change the subject.

"I am. I haven't had a break in weeks."

"Go to bed." Aala inclined her head toward the bedroom. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

He nodded his agreement and stood up, affectionately squeezing her shoulder as he passed.

Sitting quietly by herself for a moment, she finished her wine, then took both glasses to the kitchen. She flipped the lights off and just as she turned toward the bedroom she caught sight of her datapad sitting on the table by the couch. She looked toward the dark bedroom then back at the datapad again. "Ohh," she sighed to herself, "fifteen minutes."

Two hours later she was just finishing the report she had been working on. Switching it off, she stood stretching. She hadn't heard a sound from Obi-Wan, he must've fallen straight asleep. Silently, she turned off the lamp and crept into the bedroom. Obi-Wan was sound asleep and snoring softly, she smiled at the way his face relaxed.

She shed her clothing and pulled on a thin, sleeveless sleep shirt and climbed into bed. He turned toward her as she settled next to him, his hand coming to rest over her hip. She cuddled closer, his warmth soothing and, content, she fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

It was sometime later, but still dark, when Aala awoke again. Lying on her stomach next to Obi-Wan, she could feel his fingertips drawing imaginary lines on her back. Turning her head, she looked up at him with sleepy eyes to see if he was awake. He met her gaze in the darkness and swept his hand across her back, letting it rest just under the hem of her shirt. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"It's alright." She turned and scooted closer to him, yawning. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," he said softly.

"Mmm..." She sighed and closed her eyes, but she could feel there was something he wanted to say, so she met his gaze again.

His face was contemplative. "I wish you weren't putting yourself right in the middle of all of this. It's too dangerous."

"Good thing you weren't there when the Council decided to go along with it, then," she dead panned.

He sighed disapprovingly.

Propping herself up, she half leaned against the headboard and her pillow to face him. "Everything that's happened, everyone we've lost, it's too much and it's about to get worse. I can't sit here and do nothing. You can't expect me to. If there's anything I can do to help end this war even a day sooner, it's worth it." She looked at him seriously. "You shouldn't worry about me."

"I know."

But studying his face, she could see the concern he felt. It was evident, etched in the lines that crossed his handsome features and it brought to the surface some of her own feelings, the ones she liked to vehemently ignore. And for the first time, she felt the full weight of this war on her shoulders. Maybe it was because she was now in the thick of it. Maybe it was because lives could depend on her, what she did. What it must feel like to be a General - responsible for so much.

_I hate this_, she thought to herself. The stakes were so high and now the chance of him not coming back seemed very, very real and at the forefront of her mind.

"Ugh," she pressed her face into the covers and curled up against his side. "There should be a law against talking about war in bed."

"And who would enforce that?" he asked.

She grinned. It was just so much fun to tease him, he made it so easy. "The Jedi would have to, of course. 'The Guardians of Peace in the Galaxy, and all.'"

"I don't think it was meant to be interpreted and put to use in that way," he answered dryly.

"Ah, well." She pulled back a little, trying to make out his features in the dark and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying her light touch. "You have more grey hair."

"How can you tell?" He asked grumpily. "Does it feel different?"

"I noticed earlier. Too much stress."

He moved closer, resting his head against her shoulder as she continued to stroke her fingertips across his scalp.

"I know a great way to reduce stress," she offered suggestively but he was already pressing slow, lingering kisses to her collarbone.

"Hmmm..." he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her to him.

"I'm serious, you know. It lowers your blood pressure, it's good for your heart, it can even reduce pain." She stretched letting him have better access to more places and pressed her hand against his chest.

"Yes, doctor," he murmured in between kisses. "Plain old-fashioned exercise is good for you, too."

"It's not - ah... the same..." his hand found it's way under her shirt, skimming over sensitive skin and illustrating her point quite effectively. "Really. This should be openly encouraged."

"You'll have to speak to the Council about that."

"I thought I was."

"I'm only one. You would have to convince the others."

"Master Kenobi, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"No."

"Aw, you're no fun," she smiled to herself.

"Less talking, more stress reducing." And he brushed the palm of his hand over her skin, just there, taking her breath away and finally kissed her lips, further limiting her oxygen supply. Talking anymore now, was out of the question.

Shifting closer, he cradled her head in his hands, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones and he kissed her again, softly. His beard scratched at her skin a little and she pulled back after a few moments lifting her chin so he could continue his kisses along her jaw and down the column of her neck.

He pulled her half under him, and she looped her arms around his body running her hands up his bare arms, skating around the injury on his left bicep, to his shoulders and down the muscular planes of his back.

Her body tingled as his mouth moved lower and his hand glided up her side, pushing her shirt higher and, together, they pulled it over her head. His fingers returned to her body and she hummed a soft sound of approval, turning toward him. Tangling her leg with his, she held tightly to his strong frame as his hands continued to roam.

As they moved together, her eyes locked with his, and for a second the intensity overwhelmed her. She wanted to ask what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but she couldn't catch her breath. Instead, their lips met in a soft kiss and then he turned his head, pressing his mouth to the curve of her shoulder.

Sliding his arm underneath her, he urged her closer. With a swift intake of breath, she gripped his arms as the sensations intensified. He pressed his lips to her ear and she could feel his energy flowing through her. "Let go," he encouraged, the gruff sound of his voice spurring her forward. There was nothing she could deny him.

* * *

Quiescent, they held onto each other for a long time afterward, peacefully content. She felt happy and languid, drifting in and out, finally completely relaxed. At some point he pulled the covers around them and when she had the energy, she turned to her side pressing her back to his warm, solid body and guiding his arm to wrap securely around her. Lazily, his fingers brushed across her ribs and her stomach, tracing circles on her skin.

Aala gratefully relished every minute of tranquility. The Force only knew when, or if, she would have the chance to see him again. Inevitably, there were more of the atrocities of war to come for them both.

* * *

_Lyrics by Matchbox 20 - __Real World_


	6. Chapter 6

_-Tidal waves they rip right through me, tears from eyes worn cold and sad_

_6_.

Tiredness pulled at the edges of her senses, making them dull, strained. Gripping the contact stunner in her pocket, Aala picked up her pace as she passed a group of rowdy teenagers, and forced herself to focus. The problem with this level, a few levels further down than she usually liked to travel, was that it was right in the middle of two worlds. High enough to assuredly purport how safe and popular it was, and in the daylight she was sure it was, mostly, but low enough to attract some of the more outgoing residents that usually stayed below. The ones looking for trouble. Especially when it was dark, like now.

Neon purple and blue lights lit up the nearly deserted streets and reflected off the rain slicked duracrete. It was pouring. Water collected on the buildings and skyscrapers above, then fell in big cold drops to the levels below, making it even more miserable than the steady shower above.

Pulling her jacket tighter around her body, she tried to keep out the pervasive chill, all the while trying not to think about her lovely, cozy apartment. The apartment she hardly ever saw anymore as the war raged on. She'd only returned home from Alderaan last night and was due to leave for the outer rim the day after tomorrow to follow an intelligence lead on Praesitlyn.

Reaching the establishment that was her unfortunate destination for the night, Aala caught a glimpse of her reflection as she opened the glass door of the dingy diner. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin looked washed out and ashy. Her messy hair was wet now, too, and clung to the sides of her face. Why, in the name of all that was sacred, would Obi-Wan ask her to come out on a night it was scheduled to rain.

She'd had plans. She was going to take a bath, curl up with a good holobook and then promptly fall asleep.

'_And why is he _here_ of all places_?' She thought to herself, starting to get annoyed.

'_And _where _is he?_' Standing just inside the doorway, she felt like stamping her foot in frustration when, finally, she spotted him at a booth in the back corner.

Her heart skipped a beat. And she had thought she looked bad.

Slowly, taking off her jacket, she made her way toward him. In her mind, she quickly flipped through everything she'd heard in the past 48 hours. As far as she knew, his last mission had ended successfully. She'd actually seen Anakin just that morning and she was sure, almost entirely sure, her sister was safely tucked away in her expensive penthouse at 500 Republica. But things could change.

"What can I getcha?" A service droid rolled by as she sat down in the booth opposite him.

"Coffee's fine." She answered without taking her eyes off of Obi-Wan. "Hi."

"Hello." He nodded politely, but there was no warmth in his expression, no happiness with her arrival. His face was pale, and he looked like he literally hadn't slept in days.

Perplexed, she regarded him closely, thinking she had never seen him look quite like this before. "It's really coming down out there," she said, pulling her hair back from her face.

"Hmm." Uncharacteristically subdued, he looked out the window, up toward the dark sky, but she could tell he wasn't really taking note of the weather. Utterly lost in his own thoughts, he wasn't projecting anything and he wouldn't meet her inquisitive gaze. There was nothing; no emotion to indicate to her what he was thinking.

Well, this was just irritating. "What's up, Kenobi?"

Startled, he blinked and looked at her. It was like he was trying to meditate; did he forget she was even there? "Oh. I just wanted to see you."

Right.

His attempt at a smile was pathetic. She had a perfectly nice, warm, dry apartment. With a bed. There was no logical reason to be out here on a night like this. She was at a complete loss. Never before had she seen him act this distracted.

Not knowing what else to do, she sat in silence with him until her coffee came. "Sorry," she stopped the waitress, "can I get some milk?"

He watched her as she fixed her coffee. The rain pattered against the window, softly drumming a lulling beat. She wondered if he was ever going to say anything at all.

As she brought the steaming mug to her lips, he finally broke his silence. "Why did you choose this life, Aala?" he asked her softly.

"What? Politics?" she asked confused.

"No..." he shook his head. "This. Us."

She laughed it off. "I'd hardly call you a 'way of life', Obi-Wan. How often do we even see each other?"

The expression on his face remained the same, unamused and just as serious as before. He actually wanted a real answer.

Shrugging, she tried to keep her tone casual. "You make it easy for a girl like me," she answered flippantly, "–no commitment, no expectations, no pressure."

He wasn't buying. And she had a bad feeling she knew exactly where this conversation was headed. But how the hell could he know? She'd never uttered a word, never even hinted at it. Damn Jedi.

He looked at her intently, and she felt like he was reading her as easily as he would a progress report on the battlefront. "Something happened." He was in full Jedi mode now. She knew he used that when he was upset, stolidly keeping his feelings at bay.

"Yeah." Exasperated, she answered as if it should be obvious. "I was in a shuttle crash that very nearly ripped me in two."

"No, no. Not that."

Aala groaned, her shoulders slumping and she frowned at him. "I don't ask _you_ about _your_ other lovers," she huffed.

"I don't have any other lovers."

"Ex-lovers, then."

A flash of pain crossed his worn features.

"Nevermind," she said quickly, grimacing. Jedi Obi-Wan she knew. She could deal with him. This other Obi-Wan, the moody one, he made her nervous. She took a drink of her coffee and swallowed; his face was impassive again. He was practically staring her down and she changed her mind. This was General Kenobi, but there would be no negotiations here. He wanted information and he was going to get it.

Aala gave a resigned sigh. "I've never told anyone this." She warned him, hoping he would back down. "It's not even that important, I just – " She broke off and he nodded, indicating she should continue. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath and shook her head, steeling herself against having to relive something she'd much rather just leave in the past. "After I graduated, I met someone. He was charming and smart and I thought I was in love.

"It went really fast, and after a few months he asked me to marry him. He was... very... traditional. He wanted to ask my father's permission and everything – thank the Force I talked him out of that.

"Anyway, we started planning a wedding, and we were engaged and deliriously happy," she said sarcastically, "and one day we were out, at dinner or something, and he started talking about how he wanted a boy and a girl and how he hoped they looked like me..." she almost smiled sadly at the memory, it was such a sweet sentiment, at the time, but she stopped herself and shrugged, "I realized – I hadn't told him. It was stupid of me, I know. It was my own fault, but I didn't know what to say. He was so – I don't know – eager...

"So, I just came out and said it. I explained what happened. And he left."

"He left." Obi-Wan said it resignedly, as if he had known the punch line all along, had been dreading it and he scrubbed his hand across his face.

"He wasn't angry or upset, he just said he wanted a family and he couldn't marry me and then he just got up and left."

"I'm sorry. That's terrible." He said it sincerely, and she looked up at him. It meant a lot to her that Obi-Wan offered comfort, not rejection, that he always had, but she didn't know how to put that into words. And there it was once more on his face. Deep pain. Loss.

Those feelings flooded into her. That moment, from long ago of the man she thought she loved walking away from her replayed in her head so clearly, it was as if it was happening again. She studied a nick on the table, unable to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. "He made me feel worthless. Like I had no value as a person, as a woman...," her voice faded away until she was almost whispering; it was so hard for her to say this out loud. "I thought he loved me and he just walked away, like I was nothing to him."

She took a deep cleansing breath and shook her head, trying to clear away the bad memories. "And I pretty much gave up on men. And love."

"You don't think you'll ever get the chance to be happy." It was a brutally honest statement and it fractured the last of her composure.

"Don't put words in my mouth." She snapped at him. "I'm happy."

"You don't look happy."

"Because you're acting like a crazy person!" She was rapidly losing her patience with this situation and his lack of candidness. "Obi-Wan. What happened?"

He paused, staring at his hands. "A friend, a close friend, passed on."

"Who?" Apprehension crept into her voice.

"You don't know her." He answered quietly.

"Obi-Wan..." she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, "oh, I'm so sorry." She wanted to reach out to him, in some way, but he offered her nothing. She thought about what little he had said, what he had asked her, put the pieces together one by one in her head... "I'm sorry." she repeated.

His grief seemed to well up in him, threatened to overflow. She could feel it herself, as if it were her own and she knew it well. It had been a year since Obi-Wan had been presumed dead, but she would never forget what she had gone through those first couple of days. He clutched his coffee cup tightly in his hands, so hard she worried he was going to break it.

Her heart sank. It felt heavy in her chest and the words were spilling from her mouth before she could stop herself. "You loved her."

"I loved her." He said it so softly, she almost didn't hear and she didn't think he was talking to her anymore.

"Why did you call me?" She was speaking again, without thinking. The question had fallen from her lips before she could consider whether it might be better to just keep it to herself.

He looked at her, his eyes wide and she realized the way that must have sounded.

"I don't – I don't mean that. I just... Obi-Wan, I don't know anything about love," she said sadly, "... the one time I tried, I utterly and completely failed."

What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to be feeling right now? Jealousy? Compassion? Pain? The only thing she knew she felt was completely overwhelmed. What did he want from her? Whatever it was, she was pretty sure she couldn't provide it.

The pang of heartbreak, his heartbreak and hers from so long ago, swirled together inside her. It was sharp and raw, and it made it hard to breathe. She felt a tear slip over her cheek and hastily, she brushed it away. Surely, it would be misunderstood.

"I have to go." Gathering up her jacket, she carelessly dropped a few credits on the table and stood. He didn't look at her. "I – I'm sorry."

She turned to leave, feeling like the walls were about to collapse on top of her. But as she started to walk away, she forced herself to stop and turn back to him. Blinking back her tears, she covered his hand with her own. "Obi-Wan. If you need me, you can call. Anytime." Hollow words, she knew, from a woman who was about to walk out, but she just didn't know how to deal with this, not right now.

He was staring outside again, into the darkness, watching drops of rain slide down the glass window pane. She thought she saw him nod. Biting her lip, and hating herself, she turned away from him again. Tears fell unbidden down her cheeks; if she could only get outside, they would mix with the rain and wash away. Hurriedly, she made her way to the door and left.

He didn't call.

* * *

AN: Remember to review! Please let me know what you think, one word or twenty, good or constructive :) Thanks for reading!

_Lyrics by Blink 182 - __Down_


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Wow, I really struggled with this one. Sorry for the delay! It's kind of slow, but there will be a bit of action in the next part; we'll see how that goes. Remember to review, and if you have any suggestions, please don't hesitate to let me know! Thank you so much to RKF22, charliebrown1234, nia, Azura Soul Reaver, Chloe, and laloga for your comments, it means so much! Enjoy! :)

* * *

_-And I've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance. And up until now, I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness_

_7._

Aala lounged across her sister's perfectly made bed, her head propped on her hand, while she skimmed over messages on her datapad. The afternoon sun threw a rectangle of warm light through the window and across the floor. Padmé was packing, her traveling case perched at the end of the bed, and they were having a disjointed conversation as she moved back and forth from her closet to her room.

"You should come with me," Padmé offered, folding a dress and placing it neatly inside her case.

Aala arched one eyebrow, a disbelieving look on her face.

"I'm going to Naboo first." She explained. "It would be good – all of us together. It's been too long."

"I have to work, Padmé." Aala said flatly, her attention returning to her datapad.

"I'm sure Bail won't mind if you're gone for a day or two."

"Padmé," she said, slightly exasperated, "I don't just work for Bail, anymore, you know that." _I think..._ "I can't just leave Coruscant on a whim." She was protesting, but already was starting to consider the idea. How long had it been since her family had sat down together at one dinner table? Longer than she'd like to admit. She didn't regret leaving her family to go to Alderaan, but she knew she should've come home to visit more often. As she grew older, she was starting to realize how important that really was to her.

"Sorry!" Padmé called from the closet, but she was smiling when she emerged.

Frowning, Aala sat up. "And why does everything always have to be on your schedule?"

"Calm down, Aala," she teased. "I just thought it would be nice." And she disappeared again.

Aala sighed. "I'll have to check. But I could probably work something out."

"Oh, good. I've missed you." Padmé smiled warmly coming back into the room with a pile of clothes draped over her arm.

Pensive, Aala watched her fold and pack. "I've been talking to Sola a lot, lately."

"Oh?" Padmé said. "What about?"

Aala thought for a moment. She'd never felt loneliness like she had when she'd walked out of that stupid diner a few weeks ago. She'd sabotaged one relationship – despite the fact that young man had turned out to be a jerk, if she'd been more mature, honest with him, it would not have played out the way it had. She hadn't told him, because she had wanted to pretend it never happened. But that was no way to deal with life.

Now she had an inkling she had struck again. She just hadn't realized there had been a relationship to ruin until it was too late.

Her answer to Padmé, however, was purposely vague. "Everything..." she trailed off.

Padmé gave her a questioning look.

"Big sister's are good for that, you know," she hinted cheerfully.

Padmé smiled back. "I know," she replied. Sitting down across from her, she must have sensed Aala wanted to talk, but she didn't take advantage of the offer to go first.

Time to up the ante. "I guess I've been a little lonely, lately," Aala admitted, tracing the pattern on the coverlet with her finger.

"You're always welcome here." Concern shone clearly on Padmé's face. "I thought you liked being alone?"

"I do... What about you? I know you've always wanted a family." Aala had meant to have this conversation with her sister a long time ago, but she hated to pry, and she could never quite figure out how to bring it up. Maybe this was her opportunity.

"The war makes it hard." Padmé said a little sadly, but then she smiled. "Besides you need a husband for that."

"Not necessarily... you just need – some sort of male."

Padmé laughed, her eyes shining with amusement. "Aala, you're so odd." She shook her head. "I want children, and a home, and a _husband_."

"Okay, but that all starts with a man."

"And the war makes it hard." She repeated.

They were arguing in circles, not unusual for them. Instead, Aala decided to try a direct approach. "What about Anakin?" she asked. "You two seem close."

Padmé seemed to think about it. Was she contemplating how close they were or how close she should tell her they were? "We are, I suppose. We're friends. But he's a Jedi."

"Maybe things will be different when this war ends," Aala said it softly, suddenly wondering to herself if that were a real possibility.

"Maybe." Padmé stared out the window for a moment. "You're a friend of Obi-Wan's. I wonder what he'd say... I consider him a friend, but he's so disciplined. I can't imagine him wanting to change anything. He's always so ordered, in control."

Padmé spoke of him like he didn't have feelings. Was that how Aala had perceived him? Treated him? Why else would she have been so caught off guard by his grief? "Not always..."

Padmé looked at her curiously. "You know from experience..."

Aala hesitated. If she was open it might encourage Padmé to reciprocate. Then again, if she knew they were close, she might not want to confide in her at all. It suddenly seemed immensely important she say the right thing. Aala did not like to gamble, but she was left with no choice.

"Yes," she answered finally.

Padmé smiled teasingly, unaware of Aala's internal struggles. "So, you have a vested interest in things changing?"

"Of course not," Aala answered too quickly, and she chided herself for always being so defensive. "I never wanted to raise a family." She clarified. "I enjoy being an Aunt. Anyway, Obi-Wan and I didn't part on the best of terms last time we saw each other."

"Does that account for this bout of loneliness?"

"I suppose it does." She studied her sister. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"If things changed tomorrow, would you marry Anakin?"

Padmé paled. "I –," she pressed her hand to her cheek slowly. "I don't feel well," and then she was rushing to the 'fresher.

"Padmé!" Aala exclaimed, surprised. "Are you alright?" she asked when her sister came back in the room.

"I'll be okay," Looking tired, Padmé sat back down on the bed.

"I'll go," gathering her things, Aala glanced worriedly at Padmé. "I"ll call you later?" she asked as she headed for the door.

"Sure, I'm fine. I just need to rest."

* * *

He had only wanted to rest. Instead, Obi-Wan found himself sitting alone at a table in the back. Again. Having been coerced into coming to this Force forsaken hole in the wall by Anakin, he was now rather annoyed Anakin was across the room in deep conversation with Rex instead.

He took a long pull from his bottle of ale and seriously considered slipping out while Anakin was otherwise occupied.

That was exactly when Anakin chose to look up at him and he gave him a knowing look.

Well, so much for that.

Sitting alone, with no chance of escape, Obi-Wan allowed himself a rare moment of becoming lost in thought. A certain blue eyed woman crossed his mind. Which prompted the thought of another.

He was going to call her, he had meant to weeks ago, but then he had been called away. Anyway, it never seemed to go well when one of them sought the other out. It was better to wait for their paths to cross of their own accord, naturally. And cross they did. Once, she had literally tripped over him in the plaza. He recalled her shocked expression when she had ended up sprawled in his arms after she had fallen, and he hadn't been able to help the affectionate laugh that escaped as color blossomed high on her cheeks. Ah, before the war. Such a long time ago.

This thing between them, whatever it was, had truly snuck up on him. He had never planned to forge a relationship with her. It had been so easy - it was always there, always unreserved and accessible. He had listened to the living Force, made a single decision at a time and somehow found himself repeatedly back in her arms.

There had been no moment of fiery passion to warn him, no final ultimatum or declaration of undeniable love.

At the time – times – he had only been temporarily seeking solace with an enigmatic, caring young woman. Sharing a brief pleasure with a dear friend. Accepting comfort, in a time of war, with an equal partner. _'Excuses or reasons?,_' he wondered.

But only now he realized, somewhere along the way, she had become so much more. Something unexplainable. It was as if recent events had awoken a part of him he had forgotten was there.

And on a dark night, he had come to her, needing her comfort, but he'd asked for a great deal and offered very little in return. It was unfair of him to expect her to help carry that particular burden.

In truth, he had called her because he needed to know where they stood – face her forthrightly and see what he felt, but it had been much harder than he anticipated to open up and he'd alienated her in the process. When she had walked in that door, she had looked exhausted and irritated and beautiful. And he couldn't think.

He had purposefully avoided her lingering gaze, keeping his thoughts to himself and yet his curiosity about her own complicated feelings had compelled him to press her for answers she didn't have. He had let himself question something he had decided a long time ago didn't matter – she was free to make her own decisions, if she decided to be with him and not with someone else, that was her prerogative and it should be of no bother to him.

But he had forgotten that, and so he'd practically forced her to share something immensely private, dredging up an old wound._'Worthless,'_ she'd told him. The word rung in his head, like the clang of a sword.

And the pain written clearly in her eyes, combined with his own heartache, had caused him to loose control of his emotions and he had likely scared her away but good. He was afraid he had asked far too much of her.

Two things were plainly clear to him now, weeks later. He cared deeply for her and he had hurt her. But there wasn't much he could do about it from the Outer Rim.

Breaking him from his thoughts, Anakin slid into the booth across from him, a cheeky grin on his face. "Want to talk about it?"

Obi-Wan shot him a stern, unpleasant look. "Do _you_ want to talk about _it_?"

Anakin chuckled.

"I thought not." Obi-Wan said irritably.

"Look, I only came over here because you looked lonely. If you don't want my company, I'll leave. You're no fun anyway, Master."

Had he really become that surly and unpleasant to be around? _'Yes,' _said the voice in the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Anakin. I have a few things on my mind."

"So, it is trouble with a girl."

"Hardly." Obi-Wan muttered. "You have a lot of experience with that?"

"Not as much as you it seems," Anakin smirked.

"A friend," Obi-Wan replied vaguely. "I'm afraid I've hurt her." Anakin didn't need to know any of the details of his personal life – he didn't think he would want to know the details of his.

"Trail of broken hearts, huh?" Anakin asked.

"Not exactly." He couldn't break something that was already broken. But despite her broken heart, he was irrevocably certain... he loved her. Sadly, it was irrelevant if she didn't return the sentiment. And it was only the truth of the matter that allowed him to admit it in the first place – if the Force asked him to let her go, he now knew for certain, from experience, he could.

The sound of Anakin's voice brought him back from his thoughts. "Master Qui-Gon told me something once..." he started.

"Oh?"

"He said 'Stay in that cockpit.'" Anakin paused dramatically, then smiled. "And I did, sort of. The point is – perspective is everything."

Well, that made no sense. Maybe he was rubbing off on him after all.

And Anakin was still grinning, apparently very pleased with himself. "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want another?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll just sit here and ponder the importance of perspective."

"Alright then." Anakin stood up. After he ordered his drink he fell into another conversation with a pilot at the bar. He wasn't coming back. Obi-Wan sighed quietly. _'I'd rather be alone, anyway.'_

_

* * *

_

Aala Naberrie loved the freedom of being alone. It had always meant she did what she wanted, when and how she wanted. She loved her father dearly, and he and her mother had parented with great love and affection, and with strict rules and high expectations. Sola and Padmé had flourished. Aala had always felt different.

So, under the guise of chasing lofty dreams, Aala left for Alderaan. Beneath the bright blue skies of the liberal-minded planet, she had the freedom to grow into her own. She studied and worked and read and thought.

Then on her way to a symposium in another city the shuttle she was in crashed and she didn't remember anything for a long time after that. Suddenly, she had felt very vulnerable and very alone.

So, with her body broken, craving stability, she had sought out the one stuffy, conservative young man on the planet. And she had played the part, been exactly who he wanted her to be, until she couldn't pretend anymore.

And so, with her heart broken, she found herself back at square one. Different. Alone in a crowd. Not good enough.

With a steely resolve, she decided fickle, unpredictable love was not for her. She didn't want a family. She didn't want a husband. She would be successful on her own terms. She would do what she wanted, when she wanted and the rest be damned.

And then she'd almost lost her life again in an entirely different way – her sister, her family, her home – and her world was spinning out of control. Desperately, she had grabbed on to the first solid thing that had crossed her path. And made the same mistake a second time. Because as strong and independent as she was trying to be, sex still wasn't meaningless to her. So, she'd entered into another intimate relationship without being honest up front.

But Obi-Wan was different. Obi-Wan was caring and compassionate and understanding.

Aala lay in bed, alone, in her quiet apartment. She liked the freedom of being alone. It meant she could go to bed when she wanted without being woken by someone coming in later – only she couldn't seem to fall asleep.

It meant she could stretch out and have all the space she wanted – except she hadn't been able to bring herself to sleep in the middle of the bed since the war had begun.

It meant she could have the blankets to herself, without having to share. It was just – nothing could keep her quite as warm in her chilly apartment, in the middle of the night as Obi-Wan's warm, solid body wrapped tightly around her own.

Obi-Wan.

Lying on her side, Aala smoothed her hand across the cool sheet next to her where Obi-Wan was _not_.

That miserable night he had come to her, as a friend, expecting kindness and compassion and understanding in return. But she had been ill-prepared because of her own selfishness, her own short-sightedness. She had never considered he had loved, never imagined he could hurt that absolutely.

But it wasn't his feelings she couldn't deal with, it was her own. So, regrettably, she had left, because she knew he was stronger than her, that he could do it alone.

The burn of her mistake could be felt even now, hot and shameful. She had no idea how to make this right. It would likely be ages before she had the chance, anyway. He hadn't called, and she was sure he had no desire to see her. But now she knew she did care about him. More than she ever could have imagined, more than anyone else.

Alone in her empty apartment, she resolutely decided she would face her fears and insecurities head on. And she would be whatever he needed her to be.

Aala closed her eyes, sighing softly to herself. She was pretty sure that would entail very little, for quite awhile.

* * *

Sitting at her small desk at SBI, Aala poured over endless intelligence reports. She read through every report she could get her hands on looking for anything, everything, reading between the lines and searching for the impossible – a clue, an answer.

When she wasn't working on something specific, when Bail didn't need her, this was what she did. She sat in this claustrophobic room, with bad lighting and read reports. Sometimes for hours.

The door opened suddenly and she started, letting out an undignified squeak in surprise.

"Sorry," Captain Dyne apologized. "I uploaded new reports to your file. Brilam, Outer Rim. The Assistant Prime Minister is defecting. I"ll brief you in the morning and you can leave right after that."

"Fine," she answered shortly, trying to regain her sense of professionalism. "Who's leading?"

He checked the note card in his hand. "General Kenobi."

"_Of course." _Aala cursed under her breath, her shoulders slumping. Thankfully, Dyne hadn't heard her as he shut the door behind him.

She felt like banging her head on the desk, but somehow found the strength to restrain herself. Sighing deeply, she shut down her terminal, deciding to call it a night. The Galaxy, it seemed, had its own plan.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** I apologize for the long delay for this part! Darn DRL, and I was a bit distracted writing a couple fun little stories in the mean time. I've hopefully made up for it by making this part quite a bit longer than the others. I've really tried to challenge myself with this one, so I'd really appreciate any and all feedback! Thank you to everyone who has left feedback so far.

Many, many thanks to laloga for all your help and your suggestions and encouragement. It is much needed and very appreciated!

* * *

_-When the war has took its part, when the world has dealt its cards,_

_If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart_

_8._

They froze as one. There was a moment's hesitation, a swift decision and then Anakin and the clones followed Obi-Wan's lead into a narrow outside corridor to the right.

"No. No, no... no!"

The interjection over his comlink increased in both volume and urgency with each utterance and though it was somewhat vague, it was unequivocal and it made Anakin start so badly he drew his lightsaber from his side.

"You can't go that way."

Okay, fine then, they _weren't_ in immediate danger. It was Aala, and though he had never thought them anything alike, she sounded scarily identical to Padmé when she was upset – and that must be why he had been so startled. He'd thought he was in trouble.

They were trying to enter the palace covertly to extract the assistant prime minister, Phillip Barak. As an important part of the government on a planet that was currently flirting quite intently with the CIS, he had valuable information on the Separatists' efforts and he had decided he was more than willing to trade it for his safety and a comfortable life on Coruscant. It was quickly decided his information was more important than the allegiance of Brilam, at this point. But if the prime minister discovered Barak's impending betrayal, Barak would surely be dealt with swiftly.

"You can't – who is that?" She sounded both concerned and commanding, and again, Anakin was reminded of Padmé.

As they crouched between the palace and a high concrete wall, there was no other sound except the not-distant-enough metallic clanking of battle droids. Whisky and Rex looked to Anakin for direction and he watched as Obi-Wan clenched his jaw. "_That_ is _me_."

"That's a dead end, Kenobi, you can't –" Anakin heard the Admiral in the background over the com and Whisky made an indignant noise at the same time. Obi-Wan's face was stone cold.

"Er... uh," Aala stammered. "General. Um, that's a dead end," she repeated herself lamely. "You can't go that way." She must've left her terminal when they turned into the corridor. She wouldn't have had an open comlink of her own and had to be at the center command table, now.

Anakin bit back a smirk at the look on Obi-Wan's face; he apparently wasn't in the mood to be told what to do. The sound of the droids grew louder. They were patrolling.

"We have no choice," Obi-Wan said through gritted teeth. There's a battalion of battle droids up ahead, on the planned route. There's no way around them." And he made the signal to move ahead, down the corridor. The walls were high and bare, allowing their foot falls to echo in an unsettling way, and the calm blue sky above was a perfect contradiction to the disorder below.

"No, you don't understand," Aala insisted.

Obi-Wan stopped again, clearly agitated.

'Odd,' Anakin thought to himself. 'I thought Obi-Wan and Aala were friends. Certainly haven't been acting like it.'

Rex and Whisky raised their blasters, at the ready, and Anakin could feel their unease.

"They're... they're corralling you. There's a reason it's called a dead end."

"Are you saying they know we're here?"

"No... I – it must be a pre-caution."

"Why did we not know about this?"

Anakin could tell he was trying to keep frustration from tinting his voice, but it was clear on his face, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

"The field agent didn't report any 'droid battalions.'" Aala said, her voice sounding distant. "There were only a couple stationed at each main entrance. I don't know what changed. How many droids are there?"

"Too many to dispatch without the chance of being noticed. It's too dangerous."

"But – um, General – you..."

Anakin heard the clicking of buttons; Obi-Wan signaled to move again. There was only the sound of their steps for a moment, while Aala searched.

"There's no way out. You'll be trapped."

"You better figure something out quickly, then."

* * *

"Have a seat, Agent Naberrie." Admiral Yularen gestured toward her terminal.

She twisted her hands together as he leveled her with a serious gaze. Her behavior thus far had been a bit odd for an intelligence agent, but she'd been highly recommended. Now was her chance to prove it. Certainly, she'd have to work a miracle for General Kenobi to consider marking her favorably in his report. Although the man displayed infinite patience on many occasions with Skywalker and Tano, he thought it unlikely he would do the same for her.

Aala nodded once and sat down at her terminal, bringing up her reports and layouts.

Admiral Yularen tapped at the center console opening up a channel for her at her terminal.

"Agent Naberrie?" General Kenobi's authoritative voice came immediately.

Aala hit a button to keep the link open. "I'm looking." She was pulling up readouts and maps, scanning them furiously, comparing them to her own notes.

"Look faster."

"There," she said under her breath, but General Kenobi heard her.

"Where?"

"At the end... there should be an– an add on. The prime minister had an addition built so he could have a bigger closet. It's not reinforced." She pulled up more screens. "You should be able to cut you're way in easily."

* * *

"How do we know where the prime minister's closet is?" Anakin joked, making a face.

Obi-Wan did not share his good mood. He'd had a bad feeling about this mission from the start. He knew Barak, the man they were attempting to rescue from the terrible fate of joining the Separatists. He was misguided and self-serving, but he was not a bad person.

Obi-Wan knew the prime minister, as well. He _was_ a bad person – indulgent and masochistic. If they were discovered, Barak would be lucky if he were executed quickly, and that was not something he deserved. Obi-Wan was single-mindedly determined to finish this efficiently and successfully, and planned on being well out of orbit before the prime minister had figured out Barak was long gone.

"You don't want to know." Aala answered wryly. "Do you see it?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, his voice terse. The wall was straight and smooth as far as he could see – and ended just ahead. The sound of the droids had faded, but not disappeared. Rex and Whisky still had their blasters ready, backing down the corridor behind them.

"Around the corner," she clarified, her voice certain.

Obi-Wan and Anakin turned the corner and immediately could see what was an obvious addition to the palace. It stuck out from the main building oddly, and was painted the same color, but not faded by the sun.

"Here," Anakin said as he ignited his lightsaber. But Aala spoke up again.

"The problem will be coming _out_ of the closet."

Obi-Wan threw his hand up to keep Anakin still. "This might've been nice to know sooner," he said bitingly. "What does that mean?"

"There's a security panel to get into the closet – only the door is wired. You could fry the panel, but it might lock down or set off a secondary alarm. There should be some sort of emergency handle on the inside, so if you use that you'll have about 10 seconds to enter the code into the panel on the outside before it sets anything off."

"Do you have the code?" His patience was flagging.

"Yes. Of course. Sir."

"And how did we get the security code to his private closet?" Anakin asked, clearly amused.

"You don't want to know," she said again.

Anakin smirked. "I hope no one had to –"

"Anakin." Obi-Wan said sharply. "Best case?" he asked Aala.

"The rooms are clear. This'll put you directly across from the meeting point, you can grab the target and be in and out in less than 5 minutes."

"Sounds promising," Anakin interjected.

"Worst case?"

"The minister is in his closet, with his guards and he screams his head off when you stick your lightsaber thorough his brand new beloved wardrobe. Naked."

Anakin chuckled, despite the look Obi-Wan gave him. "You did ask for the worst case." Anakin said and Obi-Wan sighed resignedly. "And if he is in his rooms?"

"You better think of something quick."

* * *

The sarcastic retort had barely left her lips when the distinct sound of blaster fire erupted over the com, followed instantly by the dual snap-hiss of two lightsabers, ignited almost as one.

Admiral Yularen leaned over her station, listening closely. "General Kenobi?" He could feel the tension rolling off Agent Naberrie in waves as she sat motionless beside him.

More blaster fire. The hum of a lightsaber slicing, first, through the thinness of atmosphere, then the density of metal. The clatter, as a droid fell in pieces to the hard ground below. No talking, no shouts... more blaster fire.

And then the sound cut out.

"Obi-Wan?" Aala tapped at the console, closing and reopening the channel as she called his name, the barest hint of panic beginning to creep into her voice. "Obi-Wan!"

By the Holy Stars. "_General," _he reminded her, again, then strode back to the command table to see if he could establish a new link, but they were back before he could get there.

"We're fine, it's fine," came Skywalker's voice through the com at Aala's terminal.

"Just a couple of stray clankers," Rex added. "We took care of them. We're in the building."

Yularen looked over this shoulder to Aala; she was still obviously strained, one hand gripping the table in front of her as she leaned forward to listen.

"General Kenobi?" he inquired, so she wouldn't have to.

"Yes. We're in," he answered, his voice clipped and controlled. "Stand by with the code."

Aala was already moving, much to Yularen's relief. At least, she could do her job. The rest was 'Obi-Wan's' problem.

* * *

Aala held her breath as Obi-Wan and Anakin strode onto the bridge. Why had she opened her mouth, why had she called him that?

She was no one, and he... well, he was _General Kenobi_.

Force, even Anakin still called him 'Master.'

She shook her head; first 'Kenobi' and then 'Obi-Wan.'

Admiral Yularen, not to mention the clones on the bridge, had looked at her like she'd lost her mind. Then came the blaster fire, and she knew they were caught in that alley with no cover, and an image rose to her mind of Obi-Wan, hurt, bleeding, or worse, so close, but so far, and for a second she thought she _was _going to lose her mind. But she'd been overreacting, instead of doing her job.

'What is wrong with me?' she berated herself. For over a year, she'd been doing this; she understood the necessity for formality and she'd never had a single problem with anyone and none with her. And now she'd offended an Admiral, clone troopers, and Generals all with a few misplaced words because she couldn't keep her emotions in check.

She didn't know what she had been expecting... Almost immediately, she'd calmly decided she would simply put her feelings aside and just do her job, but the way Obi-Wan did _just that_, so _effortlessly_, bothered her to no end.

All she could think of was that he hadn't called, and she chided herself for hoping he might. Of course he didn't need her. He hadn't even spared her a second glance and she had begun to wonder if he had decided he really hadn't felt anything for her at all.

Confused and a little hurt, she'd been pushing his buttons all week, making pithy comments before she could think better of it and arguing with everything he said. Not that he'd given her much chance; he'd been avoiding her like the blue shadow virus, letting her handle strategy with Anakin.

And apparently, she had a problem with authority. His 'General Kenobi' persona seemed to bring out the petulant adolescent in her; she'd been trying to phase that out of her personality since she _was_ a petulant adolescent. 'How professional of me...' she thought to herself.

She chewed on her lip as she felt his gaze come to rest on her from behind. She shouldn't have flirted with that field agent just to irritate him...

She definitely shouldn't have insinuated they had –

"Agent Naberrie."

"Yes." It was more an acceptance of what she knew she had coming, then a question. Turning in her chair, she stood up to face him.

"I know you're only an intelligence agent –"

Ouch...

" – but you're still expected to follow certain protocol when we're in the middle of a campaign."

Aala felt her cheeks redden at the way he was looking at her. "I – yes, sir." Force, she felt stupid calling him that, but she didn't know what else to say at this point.

"This does not include a running commentary on what you perceive to be our ineffectiveness. It does include you addressing me as '_General _Kenobi', at least for the sake of decorum, if not respect, and an understanding that things can change very quickly in the field. It does not include erroneous details added only for the sake of humor."

She swallowed thickly. Rex and Whisky were standing behind him, helmets now off; Rex with a serious stare and Whisky, a look like he couldn't believe how undisciplined she was.

"Yes, sir." He didn't_ really_ think she didn't respect him, did he? Kriff, she'd really messed this up.

"Admiral," he said turning away from her. "Let's get out of here. _Naberrie_, why don't you make sure our, er, guest, gets settled in."

So, he hadn't completely lost his sense of humor. Aala nodded, and caught Anakin's eye. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I'll..." he gestured vaguely to the door, presumably offering to take her to their 'guest'. As they left the room, he looked to her again. "Barak's a little, uh, shaken up," he explained.

"I can imagine." Aala muttered. "He sounds like a sweetheart." He had started neurotically making his demands the minute they had left dirtside and he sounded as equally concerned for his comfort as he was his safety. 'He'd better have some good intel,' Aala thought, or she would escort him back to Brilam herself.

"You did a great job, Aala." Anakin spoke up, and she offered him a small smile in thanks.

"Obi-Wan didn't seem to think so," she said.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come around. It was a tough situation; I'd much rather just run in lightsaber blazing. He won't admit it, but I think he would, too."

Aala smiled.

"This is him," Anakin said as they came to a small door.

Sighing, she decided she might as well try to start a report since she was here, and she steeled herself for spending the next few hours with their high maintenance defector.

* * *

Something in Obi-Wan's voice had made Anakin think there was much more to this then he would ever let on.

And it struck Anakin, as it had only once before, and quite briefly, for legal purposes, at least, Aala was his sister. He remembered wanting siblings when he was younger, and he suddenly thought maybe in the future he might like the chance to get to know her, but for now he could take the opportunity to stand up for her. Isn't that what brothers did?

It was only after they made the jump into hyperspace Anakin decided to broach the subject.

"You were kind of hard on her..."

Obi-Wan was at a terminal, studying something, and he didn't look up when Anakin spoke. "Was I?" he asked absently.

"She did an excellent job, everything considered." Anakin said.

Obi-Wan held his chin in one hand stroking his fingers across his mustache and beard in thought. He seemed much more himself, now that horrible place was behind them. "It was a stressful mission. I suppose I forgot to commend her for her quick thinking."

"Her solution was better than the original plan."

"It was risky." He said matter-of-fact.

"It worked. That guy was a handful, it would've been next to impossible to get him through that place unnoticed."

"Yes." Obi-Wan seemed to be thinking it over, a look on his face that Anakin couldn't quite place. "I'll make a point to say something to her when I see her next."

"Say something?" Anakin prompted.

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. "Apologize."

Then another thought struck him, and he had no idea where it might have come from, but he had a feeling... "Master... this woman you might've hurt... it wouldn't be Aala, would it?"

"Possibly." He answered softly.

"Then maybe you should apologize now."

* * *

Aala was at her terminal in her room when one of the clones showed up at her door to fetch her for the General.

"General Kenobi requests your presence immediately."

"I'm busy," Aala replied flatly without turning around.

"He said you'd say that. He said I'm not to leave your room until you're ready to see him."

Aala gave a short, resigned sigh. "Fine."

Turning around, she recognized him as Whisky, the trooper that had been with Obi-Wan, Anakin and Rex. He had an almost indiscernible smirk on his face as he escorted her to Obi-Wan's quarters.

Obi-Wan was at his kitchen unit, his back to the door, when she came in. "Did you argue?" he asked when Whisky left, dry humor laced his voice.

Aala couldn't help herself. "Maybe..."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything.

"The mission is over, I'm not under you command anymore, _General_." She paused. "Only at your mercy."

He turned to face her, offering her a cup of tea and gestured toward the small couch. She was relieved to see most of the earlier tension had all but faded from his face.

She took the cup and perched on the edge of the seat hesitantly. Though she felt better, the air around them was charged and Aala felt unsure of what she should say – there was still so much unspoken between them.

"I –" Obi-Wan started.

"Before you say anything..." she interrupted, "I have to tell you, I'm so sorry I left that diner. I've regretted it since the moment I walked out. I didn't know what to... say and I was upset."

"It's not your fault Aala," Obi-Wan said reassuringly, "it was difficult, to the say the least."

"You were hurt; I should've been there for you, no matter what. I'm your friend and I – I shouldn't have left." Obi-Wan nodded, but it wasn't the reaction she'd been hoping for. Actually, she had no idea what she had been hoping for – she felt more disconnected from him than she ever had. And she felt that pang again, that maybe he had realized he didn't want her at the same moment she had realized how much she cared for him. But he was here, and he was talking to her...

"My turn?" he asked, looking at her carefully.

She tried to smile at him. "If you insist."

"I would also like to apologize."

But she knew he meant the mission. "No," Aala protested. "You –"

"Now hear me out." He continued. "I let the stress of the mission get to me. Your work and quick thinking were invaluable to all of us. And without your help, I'm not sure it would have been the efficient success it was."

"I – thank you." She spoke quietly, looking down and ran the tip of her finger along the rim of her tea-cup. He clearly felt bad for what had happened, and his sincerity gave her a spark of hope.

She looked up at him. "I need to learn to just be quiet, more often."

Obi-Wan smiled, and she couldn't help but return the expression. "So... are we even, then?"

"Well, I don't know..." Aala fiddled with the cuff of her jacket, trying to hide a grin and looking at him innocently. "Your tirade – "

"It was not a tirade," he chided her playfully.

"Your... admonishment... _was_ in front of everyone, and it was, at least partially, undeserved."

Obi-Wan's mouth quirked in a half-smile. "How can I ever make it up to you?"

"Hmmmm..." her eyes fell on a door across the room. "You have a water shower, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"I haven't had a proper shower for over a week. I can't stand the sonic, I feel dirty."

"Hm, it's rationed..."

"I'll be quick, I promise."

"Well, okay. Five minutes."

"Five minutes." She repeated happily, then almost bolted for the 'fresher. "This is going to be the best five minutes of my life," she murmured blissfully, already unbuttoning her shirt.

Obi-Wan laughed softly, but then stopped abruptly. "Hey," he grumbled.

Aala just laughed, letting the door slide shut behind her.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed as he glanced at his chrono and tried not to think the things he was thinking. It was unfair to categorize her. For the most part, he could guess, she was quite different than... most... women.

Then again, he really had no idea. But it had already been more than five minutes and his water really was rationed – he had thought he was being generous – the amount of hot water he had worked out to just over four minutes a standard day. And he was anxious to talk to her.

He hadn't meant to come across so harshly during the mission, but the stress of the entire situation had proven too much for his patience. And Aala's attitude didn't help the matter. He knew the intricacies of her personality well, but his doubt of her feelings had added an unknown layer to the tension. As much as he wanted to sit her down and just talk to her, they had not had the time, and so he'd left her alone. Until now.

Grabbing his bath robe from his bedroom, he opened the door to the 'fresher. Steam billowed out of the tiny room. "It's been five minutes, Aala."

"Sorry," she called out over the sound of the running water. "I'll be out in a second."

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment, then left the robe on the counter and went to wait in the other room.

Aala emerged a minute later, wrapped in his robe, her hair wet and sat down next to him on the couch. Pressing her shoulder against the back rest, she shifted sideways, so she could face him.

"That was seven minutes," he said, implying it was a very serious infraction.

"Sorry," she smiled guiltily, "I owe you two minutes."

"Two minutes of what?"

"Anything you want."

"That sounds nice," he teased.

"Hmmm..." she agreed, watching him.

"Aala, we need to talk."

"It helps if you don't approach it like an interrogation."

"I know," he admitted quietly. Absently, he raised his hand, brushing his fingers across her temple and pushing her hair behind her ear. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and she was looking at him and suddenly talking didn't seem quite as important as kissing.

His fingers slipped into her damp hair to the back of her head and he pulled her close, bringing her lips to meet his. The kiss deepened almost instantly as he sealed his mouth over hers. Aala's hand came up to stroke his jaw, her fingers running through his beard. His own hands dropped to her waist, instinctively pulling her warm body closer to his.

His tongue swept along her lower lip and she opened fully to him, leaning into him in a way that made him wish they were somewhere much more alone.

Ardently, he explored her mouth, and her skin, intent on relearning everything he might've forgotten in the time they'd been apart, and she responded eagerly, only pulling away when she was breathless.

"Ohhh..." she sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. Her head dropped sideways to the back of the couch and she tilted her face up to look at him longingly. "Mmm, how long has it been?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "For you or for me?"

Her head shot up and she pinned him with a hard stare, a moment passed before she must've decided he was only teasing her. "It should be the same," she said dryly.

"I wasn't sure, I wouldn't want to presume –"

"Obi-Wan." Her head dropped to the couch again, and he realized it was more a sleepy look than dreamy. She probably hadn't gotten much rest at all since she came aboard; she'd been working nonstop.

"Three months..." he said softly, and she winced.

"...one week and four days."

Aala laughed and he smiled brushing his hand over her hair again. They were quiet for a moment and Obi-Wan tried to gather his thoughts.

Even if she didn't feel the same, he needed to be honest with her, so they could get back to the same place. He didn't expect anything from her; he knew she cared for him, in her own way. But he needed her to know it was her in his thoughts, and she was important to him, and it mattered – it all mattered. They could never understand each other if he didn't tell her this.

"Aala," he said, "when –"

Obi-Wan's comlink chimed from where it sat on the counter in the kitchen unit, and Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm sorry. I have to get that."

Aala nodded and Obi-Wan left to answer the com. He kept the conversation as short as possible, anxious to return to Aala. But when he finished and went back to the couch, he found Aala, her head still tilted up on the back of the couch, with a charming look on her face that he knew intimately, the one that told him she was sound asleep and nothing short of a cataclysmic event would wake her for hours.

Baring his heart would have to wait.

* * *

The first thing Aala became aware of was that her head was bent at an odd angle and she had a horrible crick in her neck. She tried to shift her position, but found it strangely difficult to move.

Reluctantly, she forced herself into full consciousness and the second thing she became aware of was two strong, masculine arms - one wrapped tightly around her shoulders, the other curved across her back. And yes, that was a well-muscled chest her cheek was pressed against.

She couldn't recall ever having woken up in Obi-Wan's arms quite like this before, and now she knew why... while it sounded sort of romantic, it was a bit uncomfortable, and getting more so, the more she woke up. She moaned quietly and wriggled, trying to loosen his hold on her. She hadn't thought it possible, but somehow his arms tightened around her even more.

"Oomph," she groaned as all the air was squeezed out of her lungs and she pushed against his chest.

Obi-Wan chuckled, a low throaty sound that sent tingles all the way to the tips of her toes. She squirmed again, feeling the thin fabric of the tunic she was wearing bunch around her hips. "What happened?" she mumbled against his chest. "Did you take advantage of me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Oh. Darn..."

He chuckled again. "You passed out on me."

"Oh. Not that I'm complaining... but why, then, am I plastered to your chest?"

"I was resting on the couch – "

"What?" She lifted her head a fraction of an inch to try to glare at him, but he ignored it, keeping his tight hold on her.

" – and when I came in to check on you, you were shivering."

"Oh. I hate space. I swear I come within a parsec of freezing to death every time."

"Mmm..." his arms loosened, and he let one hand drift across her back, catching the material of the tunic and sliding it aimlessly back and forth against her skin.

A beeping came from the other room and Obi-Wan languidly pulled away from her. She rolled off of his arm and stretched sleepily, trying to regain circulation in her limbs.

When Obi-Wan didn't get up, she peeked over at him.

He opened his eyes slowly. "That's you."

"Oh," she sighed. "They can leave a message."

She turned on her side to face him, but her eyes drifted closed. It felt so good to lay here, and she was so warm and so comfortable in Obi-Wan's bed. Even if it was on a blasted ship.

She must've drifted to sleep because the next thing she knew, that insistent beeping was rousing her from a rather pleasant dream. She squinted her eyes open, completely offended, but it didn't matter, the beeping continued.

"Still you," Obi-Wan muttered, his arm flung over his eyes.

She sighed deeply, but couldn't find the motivation to get up. The beeping would stop. Eventually.

"Might it be important?" The general asked.

"I know what it is, and it is important, but it can wait."

"What is it?" he asked.

"I already have another assignment. I was just waiting for some final details. In fact," she added, thinking, "maybe you can drop me off."

"I'm not an air taxi."

"Fine, then you can just jettison me off into space and I'm sure I"ll figure something out." Aala stretched and sat up, pulling her hair back and yawning.

Obi-Wan got up as well, and Aala almost giggled. "Do you only have one set of sleep clothes?" she asked, eyeing his bare chest and the loose sleep pants that were the obvious match to the tunic that was a size too big for her that she had on.

"Would you rather I was wearing them both?" He stood in front of her crossing his arms.

Aala smirked and shook her head. "No."

"What's the assignment?" He asked as she finally swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"It's classified." She answered, standing up and heading for the 'fresher.

"I think, as the commander of the Armada, my 'clearance' is a bit higher than yours."

Aala stuck her head out the door. "And modest, too." She knew he was teasing, but out of the warm haven of his bed, things felt strained between them again. She frowned as he waited expectantly for an answer. "Then it's need to know, and you don't need to know."

"Aala..." he said in a warning tone. He leaned against the door jamb, watching her as she washed her face.

She looked at him in the mirror then frowned again. "Well, if you drop me off, you'll know exactly where I am, and since when did you decide you need to keep tabs on me?"

Obi-Wan watched her closely, not saying anything. Aala shook her head, giving up on getting an answer or any privacy and she grasped the hem of the tunic, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor just to annoy him.

She started to pull on the clothes she had been wearing the night before, and looked at him carefully. "I've told you not to worry about me," she said quietly.

"I'm just – interested in what you're doing," he finally answered.

She regarded him, her expression softening.

"Obi –"

Beep. Beep.

Aala sighed and brushed past Obi-Wan to get her com. She looked at him apologetically as she passed; she wasn't sure what she was going to say, anyway. Aala picked up her com off the table. "Can you give me five minutes, I'm not in my room." She paused as she got the sarcastic response she'd been expecting then rolled her eyes. "_Not_ in my room." She answered then switched it off..

She glanced at Obi-Wan, still watching her. She had the feeling there was a lot he wasn't saying. "I'll let you know when I have the details."

He nodded.

"We didn't get to talk."

"It can wait."

She forced a smile and turned to go. Blasted war.

The old Aala would've been fine to leave well enough alone and let fate decide her path. But this Aala... she wanted to make this work, she needed to make this work, but she had no idea what it would take. And it bothered her that she felt like a different person, but she realized when she had looked into Obi-Wan's eyes that she saw everything she felt reflected back, and she knew he had changed with her.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:**This part will be broken up into three pieces; it was starting to get very long. But I have it almost completely written and ready to go, so the posts will be more like a week apart, than a month. Many thanks to laloga, who has helped and supported me so, so much. This story has grown a mind of it's own and I really appreciate everyone who's still reading. Thank you!

There's a reference at the end of this chapter to another story I'm writing, Dozen, that goes with this story and is actually an idea that came from Chapter 3 of Fallen, so I'd recommend reading that if you'd like the whole picture, however Dozen does earn it's M rating just a bit more than this one does.

Remember to review!

* * *

_-There was a time when I was so broken hearted, Love wasn't much of a friend of mine_

_9._

_Night 1_

The old bar on Vorzyd V was small, but it was comfortable. Sitting on the main thoroughfare between the hotels and Casino Royale, it stayed busy enough, even despite the recent decline in business because of the war.

The owner, a middle aged Vorzydiak, was nothing if not pragmatic, a savvy businessman. He was good-humored and had keen instincts and Aala and him had gotten on from the start. He insisted on simply being called Vo, and she wasn't sure whether he was hiding something or his name was hard to pronounce, but it didn't matter to her either way.

Leaning on the aging bar, Aala went over the details of the assignment in her head as she waited for him to fill another tray of drinks - establish a cover on Vorzyd V, meet with the contact, Jace Ryen, whenever he saw fit to grace her with his presence, get the intel, double check it, and get out.

Picturing the image she'd seen of his face, she ran through the list she received with it. Average height, average build. Weakness for easy money and pretty girls – or was it easy girls and pretty money? Hm. Short, brown hair. Hot tempered and scruffy.

He'd apparently provided good intelligence in the past, but he'd been identified as jumpy and unpredictable – thus this new approach, which had been her idea.

Meet him in _his_ territory, charm him into relaxing and, most important, keep it short and sweet. He was supposed to show up in the next few days, but Aala was prepared to spend a week or longer. She had a room close by and a good cover story as a down on her luck wanderer, looking for a job and a place to get away from her past.

_Why was it always so easy for people to believe she was down on her luck? _She gave a mental shrug. As long as it worked.

"Tables 5 and 6," the yellowish-green skinned bartender said, catching her attention as he added two ales to the whiskey and mixed drinks – a tall blue one, and a fizzy orange one – on her tray.

"Thanks Vo," she said glancing up at him, but he was looking over her shoulder, his antennae swaying slightly back and forth.

"Watch out for the Hrakian."

Aala turned to see the bulky near-human at table 5; his hair and skin a distinct shade of gold.

"He's all hands," he said, a tone of dry humor in his voice. "But don't offend him," he added, "he's a regular."

Aala smiled – ah, the complications of being a waitress at a bar – and Vo gave a short nod, seeing she understood. She was grateful for the fair warning, but in the end she knew it was the bottom line that really mattered.

The first half of the night passed in relative peace. A stray hand here, a leer or two maybe, and only one spilled drink. She sank comfortably into her assumed persona, if not the tight dress, serving drinks, flirting just enough to keep them interested in hanging around, and staying, for the most part, just out of reach.

She was consoling an old smuggler, who'd presumably gambled away the last of his credits at the casino, when she turned around and saw him. Her quick eyes took in every feature of his face in an instant – what looked to be a week's worth of stubble on his chin and jaw, the tousled hair like he'd just rolled out of bed, the handsome easy lines of his face.

Obi-Wan sat casually at a booth in the back. The other waitress, Jynne, was already waiting on him, her hand on her waist and her body tilted just so, inviting him to admire her generous curves.

Then his eyes met hers from across the room and she realized she had been openly staring. Something dangerous flashed across his expression and she spun around to grab her tray before she gave herself away.

She cursed under her breath and then cursed in her head, any and every curse word she could think of and then she made some up.

This was not part of the plan, this was not part of _her_ plan. Did he think she wasn't capable of doing her job?

Trying to push her growing ire to the back of her mind, she decided to just ignore him. What did she care if he sat in the back of this bar and watched her? If he wanted to drink and flirt with his waitress, then fine.

But he kept invading her thoughts. She knew they hadn't had a chance to talk, but he seemed fine when she left him, and they were in the middle of a war. Talking would just have to wait.

_Blasted, kriffing, insufferable _– she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right. Ignoring him.

She ignored him as she felt his eyes on her from across the room. She ignored him as he tried to get her attention, pretending to want to order another drink. And she even tried to ignore him when he cornered her in a back storage room where she was looking for alcohol to restock.

Seething, she tried to brush past him to leave, but his frame blocked most of the doorway. He grabbed her upper arm, to stop her, to get her to look at him. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he tightened his grip and he forced her back into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him, finally meeting his commanding stare.

"Trying to help you," he said, his voice low and controlled.

She saw that flash in his eyes again, though, as she tried to yank her arm away from him, but his grip was unyielding. He took a measured step forward forcing her back into a shelf of supplies.

"I don't need help, you arrogant –"

"There's been an – incident." His steel gaze was unflinching, his face the picture of calm control as she stared him down, her temper long gone.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your contact. It just hit the holonet, he's wanted on Corellia for assault and attempted murder."

"Well, is he guilty?" she challenged him.

"It was... it sounds like it was a tavern fight, and he took off before the authorities arrived."

"Any number of things could have happened. That doesn't make him a cold-blooded killer."

"He's dangerous."

"He's Corellian. That's what makes him a good informant. Trouble finds him no matter where he is, and we're lucky he's on our side."

He finally let go of her arm, his hand going to his chin. "People change, Aala. He's a wanted man."

"I'm not going to _provoke_ him. Besides, we're paying him a lot of money, it's a business deal, nothing more. No one's being coerced into doing anything."

"That's another thing that bothers me... his family has a lot of money, he's very rich. Why does he bother?"

"From what I read, he has a rather healthy gambling habit to fund. Or maybe he just wants to do the right thing."

"I rather doubt that."

Aala sighed, done with this conversation, and turned around, pretending to search for something in the boxes behind her. "Have my orders changed?" she asked, glancing back at him.

At this, his eyes shifted down, and then back to her. "No. Not yet. Corellia isn't part of the Republic. Their business is their own. I'm only informing you of what happened so you can take the necessary precaution."

Her anger flared again, and she whirled around. Little plastic drink straws flew out of the box in her hand and skittered across the floor. "This could have been done in a message, over a comm, Obi-Wan. You're going to blow my cover."

"Ben."

"What?"

"Call me Ben."

"Whatever." She looked him over – the physical changes, the dark, simple clothes, and a different name... would that be enough to mask his real identity? They were more than two and a half years into the war and he was a war hero. She couldn't go more than five minutes on Coruscant without seeing his name or image somewhere.

"And I won't blow your cover. I know what I'm doing."

"So do I," she warned. "Don't –" She went to leave but he didn't move.

He was so close to her now, practically pinning her to the wall of shelves, and she pushed at his chest. "Just don't. Let me do my job."

Finally, he stood aside and she stormed from the room. "If you want to help, you can pick up the straws."

* * *

Aala managed to avoid 'Ben' for the rest of the night, though she snuck a curious glance once or twice. He must've shaved right after she left and he'd trimmed his hair a bit, thinning the grey and leaving it mussed. It made him look much younger.

But then he would catch her looking at him and she'd get irritated and ignore him again. Her contact didn't show. She wasn't sure now if he even would.

At the end of the night Aala decided she would slip out the back, resenting the idea that Obi-Wan thought he had to be here to watch over her.

The corridor to the hotel was lit by rows of bright fluorescent bulbs and Aala headed for her temporary room, not paying any attention to the throng of beings around her.

It was only a few moments before she felt him following her. Stepping into the crowded lift, she hoped he wouldn't catch it, not that it would delay him more than a minute or two, but no luck. She clenched her teeth together as he stepped in right before the doors slid shut, annoyed.

Sighing to herself, she conceded that she could not ride the lift all night. When they reached her floor, she pushed past him and he followed her.

Arriving at her door, she spun around, furious, her hand lifting in the air though she was not sure if she wanted to hit him, or poke him in the chest, or nothing at all, but it didn't matter because he grabbed her wrist before she had even realized what she was doing. And she was so angry with him, she couldn't think straight.

"Why are you following me?" Despite her anger, she was unexpectedly struck by the difference in his appearance again as she turned to face him and a jolt of attraction raced through her blood. It mixed with everything else she was feeling, though, and intensified all her emotions in the end.

He pressed her wrist to the nondescript wall next to her head. "You're not taking this seriously," he said, his voice cool. "You're acting like it's nothing just to spite me."

She huffed, and he was so close her, her breath fluttered his hair. "Are you insane? Of course I'm taking this seriously. You're blowing it out of proportion so you have an excuse to strut in here like a hero and come to my rescue."

"I'm here to give you important information pertaining to your assignment," he recited. The way he kept his emotions under control only served to make her madder.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, her voice rising. "How many other intelligence agents do you personally go out of your way to hand deliver information to. There's no danger. If it is true, he probably won't show at all, and you know that."

"He's completely unpredictable. How much experience do you have doing this sort of thing?"

"_How dare you? _You have no idea what I do, what I've done." The hallway was quiet and her voice sounded loud in the empty space, but she hardly noticed.

Though his mask of calm stayed in place, he had that look in his eyes again and as she felt her cheeks flame with the heat of her anger she realized that look must be a direct reaction to the defiant, wild look she was shooting at him.

And she could tell he wanted nothing more than to toss her over his shoulder, cart her out of here and be done with it, but she didn't care.

"I'm just trying to help you."

She struggled against his grip, starting to loose feeling in her fingers and he let her hand drop.

"Just leave me alone." Her heart raced in her chest, and half of her wished he would disappear so she could go find something to punch, but the other half wanted him to close that last step between them and just_ take_ her already.

She couldn't sort out her feelings in her head and she couldn't figure out what she really wanted. It was just so much easier to fight with him lately rather than face herself, but then he would look at her like _that_...

Suddenly, he was pressing her to the wall and she was clutching the edges of his jacket and they were kissing and she had no idea if she had kissed him first or he had kissed her.

He explored her mouth with fervor, like he needed to know everything about her and she clung to him, the kiss making her dizzy. His hands clenched at her hips and she ran her fingers through his hair and over the stubble on his jaw, trying to get closer. The tension melted away and it just felt so good.

It seemed like hours before she finally pulled back to catch her breath and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close to her.

Lowering his lips to her ear, he kissed the lobe once, softly. "Aala, I just miss you." Pulling away, a small smile curved his lips, reaching his eyes, making them crinkle in happiness. "As long as you promise not to try to hit me again," he teased.

She was defenseless; she could only stare back at him, her cheeks flushed and her breath still quickened by his touch. He was irresistible.

Giving him a swift kiss, she entered the code to her door and pulled him inside.

She laughed quietly as he swept her into his arms, sealing his mouth over hers once again.

The room was small and simple with only a bed, chair, a little table by the door and a 'fresher and neither bothered with the lights.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, setting her down on the table.

Weaving one hand in her hair, he cupped the back of her head and she hooked her legs around his knees, pulling him toward her.

She could feel what he felt; his longing, how much he cared for her, his desire to just be near her and she felt horrible for being so harsh. Was it that hard for her to accept he simply cared for her?

It didn't matter now, not with the way they were wrapped around each other; his mouth was so warm and soft against hers, and his strong hands and his solid body, the way he was touching her...

And then he scooped her up in his arms and dropped her to the bed at the exact moment the table cracked and broke, clattering to the hard floor beneath them.

Apparently, it wasn't built for such activities, but she couldn't care less as he followed her down.

* * *

Too soon, satiated and spent, she fell back to the bed and it was long, long minutes before her heart slowed and her breathing was enough under control that she could speak.

"Ten," she breathed, turning her head to look at Obi-Wan sprawled across the bed next to her.

He grinned at her. "I hope that's out of ten and not out of one hundred..."

She laughed, rolling toward him and she let her hand drift across his chest. "No. Number ten," she smiled, blissful. "Whatever that was, you've never done that to me before."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Thank you so much to Nia, sachariah, and laloga for leaving such great reviews! It's really appreciated :D I hope you enjoy the continuation of Part 9... please let me know what you think!

* * *

_Night 2_

The bar was quiet. If possible, even quieter than the night before. And for that, Aala had to admit, she was grateful. They had not slept that morning; it had seemed grossly unimportant at the time...

The corner of her mouth quirked with the beginnings of a happy smile, interrupted by a wide yawn which she tried to hide behind the back of her hand as she cleaned glasses at the sink below the bar and replaced them on the rack hanging from shelves of liquor.

"You didn't break one of my rules last night, did you?" The low, slightly rough voice of Vo came from behind her.

"Remind me which rule might I have broken?" she asked, turning around to look up at his tall, thin form.

He smirked back at her. "Never go home with the customers. They won't buy the liquor if they can get the... barmaid for free."

She laughed out loud at his own personal twist on the old adage. "Of course not," she grinned. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"Good. Then you're my kind of girl."

She turned back to the sink smiling. _I could get used to this_, she thought._ Making a straightforward, honest... well, honest enough... living. Going home with 'Ben' every night and waking up with him in the morning_. It was so simple, and so different from anything either of them had ever experienced. Did people actually live like this?

Vo's deep chuckle broke Aala from her musings. "Exhibit A," he said.

"Hm?" she questioned.

"Humans," he muttered. "Fascinating. They love the chase."

Aala turned just in time to see Obi-Wan walk by, his gaze flicking to her for a brief second.

"That one was watching you all night. I've been in this business long enough to know when a man wants something. And you treated him like a bothersome heap of bantha fodder. I was going to suggest you let up on him, but it seems you know what you're doing." He chuckled again.

Aala shrugged, trying to keep her amusement from showing. "He rubbed me the wrong way." She stopped what she was doing to watch him as he sat down. His hand was at his jaw, smoothing over the rough stubble, no doubt still getting used to the feel of not having a beard.

A sudden memory of him brushing his roughened cheek across her thigh as his lips trailed over sensitive skin flashed through her mind and she felt her cheeks flush. "Maybe I'll give him a second chance. He is sort of nice looking..."

"Just remember," Vo said, a touch of skepticism narrowing his eyes.

"Don't worry." She picked up her tray, starting to head for his table. "I guarantee, as long as I'm here, he'll be back tomorrow."

Obi-Wan was sitting at the same table he had been at the night before and Aala couldn't help the flirty smile that came to her face and the bounce in her step as she approached him. "What can I getcha?" she asked, running one hand through her long hair to push it away from her face.

He followed her movements with plain desire in his eyes. "I think I'll have to start with a strong cup of caf," he said as he grinned up at her. "Didn't get much sleep."

"Sorry about that," she replied, her words teasing. They still hadn't talked, not really, but Aala felt completely different. She realized now that she had been under so much stress, personally and professionally, and she'd let the uncertainty and anxiety of the situation take over her emotions.

Being in his arms again reminded her why it was worth it to take this chance. They had reconnected in a deep way that she had never expected and she allowed herself to take comfort in knowing he was by her side, always, in whatever way he was able, instead of feeling stifled by it.

"And something to eat," he added. "Anything edible."

"You got it, sweetheart," she winked at him. Yes, this was definitely something she could get used to.

Returning to the bar, she found it had seemed to pick up a bit and Vo was busy with a few customers now sitting there, but he stopped to speak with her when she approached.

As his eyes shifted over her shoulder to Obi-Wan, and then back to her, she realized she probably still had a silly grin on her face. _Kriff, he's perceptive_, she thought to herself as she tamped down her cheer and made a concentrated effort to keep thoughts of Obi-Wan from her mind. Staring up at Vo, she tried to give him a good impression of 'innocent' and he seemed to accept it for the time being, rattling off a list of supplies he wanted her to get from the back.

In the storage room, she managed to collect everything Vo needed except one bottle of expensive Alderaanian wine, her favorite actually, that sat on the highest shelf. She was sure Vo would have no problem reaching it, but she could only manage to brush the tips of her fingers against the bottom curve of the bottle.

"Darn," she muttered, rising to her tip toes and stretching as far as she could. _Maybe I could knock it down and catch it..._

Suddenly a warm, hard body pressed up to her from behind and one masculine hand appeared in her line of vision reaching out alongside her own and it was all she could do not to yelp in startled surprise_._

"_Kriff!_" she exclaimed, whipping around to find Obi-Wan with a disarming smile and an amused expression on his face as he held out the bottle of wine for her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, grabbing the bottle from him.

"Helping you," he replied. "Actually," he checked himself. "I came to see what you were doing. Beyond just a touch of distress_,_" he frowned as he stopped to think, "I couldn't sense you at all. Are you blocking me?"

Aala blinked. "I don't know. I was trying not to think of you."

"Odd. Why is that?" he asked, perplexed.

"I think Vo might be starting to suspect something. I hope he didn't see you follow me in here."

"Of course not." Obi-Wan replied. "I'm a –"

Aala pressed her lips to his, then smiled and patted his chest affectionately. "Don't say it," she advised and she left him in the storage room, much the same as she had the night before.

* * *

"I feel old." Aala sighed.

"If you're old..." Obi-Wan murmured, "that means I'm even older."

She couldn't help but giggle as soft strands of his hair brushed across the bottom of her rib cage and she ran her fingers across his scalp. "This new look makes you look younger. If you dyed it a little, you wouldn't look a day over thirty."

He turned on the bed to meet her gaze, resting his weight on his forearms and his chin on her stomach. He smiled at her with that glint in his eyes she'd never grow tired of. "And that's saying something," he added.

She smiled back. _Thirty_... She hadn't blinked an eye when she turned thirty, but she couldn't say if it had bothered her or not – her evasive techniques were unparalleled – but now, lying in this bed, she felt like she could hardly move, and the two of them hadn't done anything more than take their clothes off, and not even all of them at that.

Shifting a little on the crumpled sheet, she stretched one arm out, folding it behind her head, the fingers of her other hand slowing to a gentle stroke through his soft hair. "I suppose getting older doesn't matter as much when you can't have children."

"In what way do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice quiet.

"Oh, you know..." She shrugged her shoulders. "You don't have to worry about having a baby before it's too late or how old you'll be when she moves out..."

He seemed to be deep in thought and his fingers, which had been drawing circles around her navel, fell in line with her scar, tracing it around her side to where it disappeared beneath her, then back up again to her stomach.

She squirmed, but she didn't pull away from him. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she muttered.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"It's so ugly."

His lips dropped to the thin, raised line that marred her smooth, pale skin, and he feathered a tender kiss there. "It's not so bad. It fades more every day."

"Liar."

"I don't lie."

"Right."

"Aala," he raised his head to look at her again, "it _has_ faded."

"So, it was ugly before?"

His answer was quiet and careful. "I wish you would admit to yourself how much it bothers you."

She knew it had been ugly before – she'd seen it in the mirror once, right after it had happened, when the skin had been puckered, an angry deep red color and the cut jagged around her body. Of course she knew it looked different now, a straight and narrow white line, but she avoided it all the same.

"I guess it isn't that bad," she conceded, "you are the only one that has to look at it."

"Not the scar, Aala. The fact that you can't have children."

Aala was quiet for a long time. She caught his hand from where it rested on her stomach and brushed her thumb across his knuckles, thinking. "When it happened, I was so young. My whole little world was completely shaken up. Not having children was the farthest thing from my mind.

"I had always said I didn't want children, anyway." She paused, a soft sigh escaping. "I don't know when it changed."

"Was it because of him?"

"No," she said, her tone firm. Turning to her side, she propped her head on her hand, and he shifted to mirror her position.

"No," she said again, softer, shaking her head. "There was a time, right after he left me, that I believed that – that there was something wrong with me. Happiness seemed like it had been a stranger for a very long time." For a moment, she thought about what he had told her in the diner, about never getting that chance to be happy.

"And I guess there was a part of me that did feel like I had done something wrong, and that I didn't deserve to be happy," her words were cautious, and she looked at him with as much openness as she could manage, hoping he would see that what he had said did not still upset her.

"Aala, I didn't –"

"It's alright. I know that's what you were thinking."

"I didn't mean it to sound so harsh."

"It was true, at one time. And sometimes I think I do let it start to creep up on me again.

"But then you came along," she gave him a sad smile. "And I still couldn't have a family. Not with the person I would choose. You can't argue, it certainly seems like I wasn't meant to."

She was quiet again, for a few peaceful moments and he reached out to her, brushing her long hair back from her face, pushing it behind her ear and over her shoulder.

And then she let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know how I feel. I guess I – I am disappointed. And I need to let that go. But I'm not – that doesn't mean I'm settling, for you... You're the best..." She didn't finish her thought, but she didn't need to. The solace on his face told her he understood.

"Aala," he started, his expression turning serious, "when this war is over, I have every intention of... reevaluating."

"That's cryptic of you," and she laughed softly at his look of displeasure. "Whatever decision this 'evaluation' brings you to, you'll still be a Jedi."

She ran her fingers across his brow, smoothing the worry lines and he caught her hand in his own. "You're important to me, Aala. I want you to know that. I've realized how deeply I care for you, and I'm not going to waste any energy worrying about hiding that from anyone. Any moment we're able to have together – that's what makes everything else worth it."

She studied him for a few long moments. "It's horribly selfish of you to get my hopes up like this," she teased.

"So, you do want the same thing."

She smiled, shaking her head. "I want you," she said quietly, that same smile on her face. "Any way I can get you."

He smiled back, his eyes twinkling and his laugh lines crinkling in the most handsome way. Shifting again on the bed, he snaked his arm around her waist and leaned close to kiss her.

After a short, sweet meeting of their lips, she pressed her palm to his chest. "But not tonight. I'm exhausted."

_TBC..._


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: **Thank you so much to sachariah and laloga for your most recent reviews! Sachariah, I might have to start a brand new series titled 'Obi-Wan, The Bedroom Negotiator' So great ;) Laloga, much thanks again for your continued support and encouragement, even though I constantly, um, 'kindly urge' you about pretty much everything ;-) It's really appreciated :D

I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion of Part 9. Please take a second to let me know what you think! Thanks!**  
**

* * *

_Night 3_

Aala bustled from one table to the next, reciting drink orders in her mind and struggling to keep her tray balanced on her arm at a new, heightened pace. Her feet were starting to feel a little sore, and she had just let herself begin to daydream about slipping out back with Obi-Wan for a minute or two, when a group of males of varying species crowded in, including the... demonstrative_..._ Hrakian, whose name she'd learned was Drex.

They'd been here every night and luckily she'd managed to strike up an easy, innocent game of 'hard-to-get' with Drex that had kept him placated and her untouched. Mentally, she prepared herself though; this was all still a bit new to her. Obi-Wan was the incurable flirt, not her.

Just then, Vo caught her gaze and in a flash she realized their usual table was taken, and they were starting to look quite put out about it. Wasting no time, she sidled up to the Hrakian, pressing her palm against his arm.

"Sit here," she cooed, gesturing to a different table and giving him a coy smile. "You'll be closer to the bar."

"If you insist," he grumbled with a suggestive smirk.

"That way I can keep an eye on you," she chided him. He moved to put his arm around her but she slipped away as Vo called for her. They took the table without further incident and she sighed inwardly. _Disaster averted._ The last thing they needed tonight was a fight.

Still unfamiliar with the intricacies of the culture, she had no idea why, but it was proving to be much busier than it had been the previous nights and she was glad she had decided to sleep that morning, as tempting as Obi-Wan was.

A smile curved her lips at the thought of him and Vo gave her a knowing look as he waited for her to tell him what drinks she needed.

"That brute finally charm you?" he asked, his tone sarcastic. Aala just shrugged, not able to keep a straight face.

Yes, he definitely knew something was up. Well, it was too late for her – she'd been giving the milk away for free for a long time and she had no complaints.

Forcing herself to resist the urge to go check on Obi-Wan for another time, she couldn't help the quiet sigh that escaped. She was scheduled to check in as soon as this shift ended and she wondered if they would pull her, considering recent developments and no word from her contact.

If they didn't, though, she would have to figure out a way to convince Obi-Wan he should leave. She _did _enjoy having him around – and if she squinted her eyes she could almost let herself pretend this was real – that re-filling drinks was her main priority and Obi-Wan was free to follow her home every night and make love to her. But it was fantasy. Certainly, the General could not spare more than three days dallying with an undercover waitress at a bar on Vorzyd V.

The reality was this was a job and it was her job and she was not his responsibility.

As the thought crossed her mind, a sudden flash of understanding struck her like a bolt of lightening and she realized why he hadn't wanted her to get involved in the war in the first place.

He felt responsible for the whole thing. He couldn't help it, and her joining the fight, it would eradicate the comfortable space between them. It would mean he was automatically responsible for her by default when they had always kept those parts of their lives separate in the past.

_Had he guessed the way it would change their relationship?_

Aala turned, finally looking at him in a brand new light. He was sitting in the very back corner and she could barely make out his features in the dimly lit room. He had a glass of what could easily be mistaken for a potent clear alcohol, but she had given him only water and he was watching the HoloNet on a small viewscreen mounted on the wall. Feeling her gaze on him, he looked up and a reassuring smile brightened his face, almost as if to tell her not to worry, that he knew it would be all right. Turning back, she had to collect herself; she wasn't sure Obi-Wan would ever fail to surprise her.

The night continued on, Aala wary of those rowdier customers, especially a certain table near the bar. She side-stepped as she had to pass it, like a dancer, shifting her hips as she passed Drex, staying just out of reach of his wandering, grabby hands, then smiled at him over her shoulder as he laughed raucously. And she couldn't help but glance at Obi-Wan, saving her most dazzling smile for him, and she was sure Vo noticed this, as well.

And then the atmosphere changed, though she pretended not to notice. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned to see her wayward informant, heading for a table on the other side of the room. His face was drawn in a staid expression, his dark eyes guarded and studious. He wasn't at all what she'd been expecting.

Besides the serious demeanor, he was tall, much taller than she had thought – he had more than half a foot on her and his hair was darker and a bit longer... the picture had been old... and the data just completely incorrect. Fantastic.

And he didn't look like a murderer though he had something of a dark edge, something in his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders, but he didn't look guilty or worried about being caught. Not that anyone out here cared what happened on Corellia.

Restive fingers plucked at her short skirt and she adopted what she hoped was a charming smile as she approached him. "Can I get you a glass of Corellian brandy?"

He looked up, studying her for a moment. His gaze swept over her, and he seemed completely unaffected by her attempts at being winsome. "What vintage?"

"Only the best for you, of course," she said, keeping up her facade. "Can I start you a tab?" She held out her hand for his credit chip and hopefully a data chip to go along with it but neither came; he sat completely still before her.

"I'll just have some water for now."

A quick glance around confirmed no one was near enough to overhear them and she cocked her head, regarding him. "That's not your line, sweetheart."

He leaned forward then, his deep brown eyes intense, his mouth set in a tight line. "Can I trust you?"

"If you can't trust a pretty girl in a short skirt offering you brandy, who can you trust?" She thought she saw his lips quirk and she took it as a good sign.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?"

Aala searched the depth of his eyes, her gaze caught in his. No malice, concern, worry, maybe even a little anger, nothing more. "Follow that hallway," she nodded her head to the side. "There's a storage room. No one but me ever goes in there after we open for the night. I'll wait a minute then meet you in there."

Going back to the bar, she set her tray down and told Vo she was taking five. As she headed for the back room where Obi-Wan had cornered her two nights earlier, she pushed everything else from her mind, determined to focus on the job. She found Jace half sitting on a large crate, staring at a data chip that was pressed between his thumb and finger.

From her place at the doorway, she took a second to study him. He was younger than her, probably in his late 20's and attractive, with a masculine square jaw and a straight nose – tall, dark and handsome.

"Here's the intel," he said quietly, holding it out for her as she walked up to him.

"Thank you," she took it, her hand steady even as it brushed against his fingers. "Why didn't you want to give it to me out there?"

"I – there's more," his tone was reserved and he seemed to be undecided still as to whether or not he could talk to her.

"All I want is for this war to be over," she said plainly. "And you already know what side I'm on. Plus, I'm risking my life meeting with a wanted man..."

He straightened his back and his shoulders tensed, his posture becoming much more defensive. "Wanted?"

So much for not provoking him. "You've been charged with assault and attempted murder on Corellia... Is this news to you?"

"Yes," he said, anger beginning to show more prominently in his eyes. And then he heaved a sigh. "It was just an argument over a game of sabaac that got out of hand. I slipped out the back when no one was looking. I didn't even hit anyone, this time." He looked down at his hands, upset. "Those CorSec boys covering for each other..."

"I see." She tried to sound sympathetic, but he said nothing else. "So what's on this chip?"

"Everything we talked about."

"Good." She said nothing more, instead waiting for him to decide to tell her whatever it was he had discovered.

Finally, he stood, his hand coming up to rest on one of the shelves next to him. "I was in a cantina on Tralus, right before I came here, actually, and I overheard a conversation. Something about a weapon."

Folding her arms across her chest, she took a step toward him. "What kind of weapon?" she asked, curious but unconcerned. Surely, it wasn't anything a good Jedi couldn't handle, although it was always nice to know ahead of time.

He shook his head, seeming to search for the right words.

"What?" she encouraged him. "Faster? Stronger shields? Invisible?"

"No," and he shook his head again. "You don't understand. Something we've never seen. A battle station – with a laser big enough to blow up a cruiser or maybe even something bigger."

Aala frowned, her brow furrowed. She didn't think he was lying, but the scale of what he was implying – it would be unprecedented. "They were talking about... plans?" she asked.

"No. They were talking as if it was already being built."

"But how? Where?"

He shrugged, his expression troubled. "It's a big galaxy."

"They wouldn't be able to hide something like that for very long."

"Maybe they don't think they'll have to." The sharpness in his words made her shiver. Losing the war wasn't something she ever let herself think about, but it was obviously something Jace had considered. "How did you overhear this?"

At this, he pulled a small device out of his ear and held it up between his fingers. "It can amplify sounds from 100 meters and focus on particular frequencies. Someone's voice, for instance, among other things."

She raised her eyebrows in silent question.

"I developed it at CommTech."

She knew that was his family's company, but she had read he hadn't had any involvement since his father and mother had passed away.

"I like to play around with this stuff sometimes. This is the only one."

She nodded and she watched as he slipped it back in his ear, completely unnoticeable. "What –"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door slide open and she _knew_ it was Obi-Wan; in an instant she realized she had closed herself off to him again, blocking everything but her objective, and he had likely sensed Jace's flickering anger – something he would not be able to ignore.

And suddenly the room was thrown in to chaos too fast for Aala to comprehend what was happening. She felt Jace tug on her arm, and she heard the snap-hiss of Obi-Wan's lightsaber and then it all came to an abrupt stop and she found her back pressed to Jace's chest, his arm around her waist and the tip of his blaster digging into her side.

Aala struggled against the hold Jace had on her, but to no avail. His arm was as tight as a vice. She had completely let her guard down; Obi-Wan exchanged a quick, knowing glance with her.

Jumpy and unpredictable: check.

"Put down you weapon," Obi-Wan said, his voice low.

"Not a chance," Jace answered. His arm tightened around her waist and he began to sidestep, moving toward the door. It was obvious his instincts were telling him to flee – and apparently he had decided she was his express ticket. She gripped his forearm, trying to keep her balance as he moved, and his skin felt hot to the touch.

Obi-Wan countered Jace's steps automatically, moving in point with him. "Let her go."

"Not while you're pointing that thing at me."

Aala caught Obi-Wan's gaze again, and tried to communicate silently that she wasn't going to panic and he should not overreact. It would only serve to spook Jace more than he already was.

"Jace." Aala turned her head to look up at him – he looked very much like a threatened young man that had been betrayed one too many times. They were in the doorway now; and Aala hoped they could find some way to resolve this before anyone saw. "Let's just talk about this."

"And then what?" His dark eyes shifted to her for one second and then back to Obi-Wan, now accusing as he seemed to realize they were together. "Was this a set up?" he growled.

"No, Jace. It's just a misunderstanding," Aala kept her voice calm. "He came at the last minute. Just in case..."

But he wasn't listening to her, his eyes trained on Obi-Wan and his lightsaber as if Obi-Wan might decide to slice his head off at any moment. Distrust shone as clearly on his face as if it was written across his forehead and Aala knew if this was going to end in any sort of peaceful manner it would be up to her.

He started to back out of the doorway.

"Jace, please, wait. We have no issue with you." Aala looked to Obi-Wan almost beseechingly and after a moment he relaxed his stance and de-ignited his lightsaber.

Aala felt Jace almost instantly relax in return, his hold loosening, but he continued down the short hallway, almost to the back of the bar now.

"I'm going to walk out of here," Jace said, sounding a bit calmer, or less angry, at any rate, "with her, and if you let us leave quietly, I won't hurt her."

Obi-Wan continued down the hall after them, caution in each silent step. "How about the three of us leave, find someplace to talk, and no one gets hurt."

"There's nothing to talk about." Well, he had a point there, though she was sure Obi-Wan had some plan. He could talk a clone into abandoning his duty.

He'd talked her into confessing something she'd never told anyone, and she could be quite stubborn when she wanted.

"Last chance, Jedi." His voice was quiet. She could hear the low din of conversation, the clinking of glasses, laughter, all louder now, and she knew without looking that with one more step they'd be in the main room and this would get a lot more complicated.

"I can't let you leave alone with her." Obi-Wan answered and Aala didn't blame him. It was obvious Jace did not have a plan. That alone made him dangerous.

And so Jace took that final step, coming out right next to the back of the bar, and the room went silent in a matter of seconds. "If anyone moves," he said, "I'll shoot the girl."

Aala took in the room with one quick sweeping glance. Obi-Wan was standing across from them, between Jace and the door, she wasn't surprised to see Vo looking inscrutable, his arms crossed, though he had moved to the side, out from behind the bar, and the rest of the room was quiet, everyone in various states of alarm, but she'd made a few friends and one or two of them looked about ready to jump to her rescue. Damn. This could get really bad, really fast.

But Aala realized the blaster was no longer digging into her side. Pretending to shift uncomfortably in his embrace, she risked a glance down and noticed right away that the tip was hidden in the folds of her loose silk shirt. Were he to pull the trigger, the bolt would only skim across her stomach and ruin her shirt. _And probably give me another scar. _But no one else could see that.

Aala pulled her attention back to Jace as he began to speak again.

"Move out of the way," he said to Obi-Wan.

"I can't do that."

They were at a stalemate and it was only then the answer occurred to her. She gave Obi-Wan her best 'trust me' look, hoping he would pick up on it and then turned her head toward her would-be captor, away from the rest of the room. "There's a back door," she whispered, trying not to move her lips any more than she had to.

Without taking his eyes off Obi-Wan, he slighted his head toward her. "What?" he whispered back, his warm breath ghosting across her cheek.

"Shoot him." she said, even quieter. At that, he looked at her, confusion in his dark eyes. "_Shoot him_," she repeated herself.

Time seemed to stand still for one long moment. Then Jace aimed his blaster, taking one perfect shot at Obi-Wan. He released her in the same moment and pushed her forward. She fell to the floor and stayed there, throwing her arms over her head and taking cover as best she could.

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and deflected the single bolt with practiced ease, aiming it high.

Jace turned to dart though the bar and make for the back door as the stray bolt slammed into a shelf of alcohol above the counter. Bottles shattered, raining shards of crystal glass and a cascade of clear and amber liquid down onto Jace and the floor below. He was doused as he ran straight through the waterfall of liquor.

And even despite that, he would've made his escape in all the chaos if not for the Jedi Master in the room. Using the Force, Obi-Wan brought one entire solid shelf down, and let it crash into the back of Jace's skull.

* * *

After a quick job of clearing out the bar, Aala had managed to find a service droid and she was watching it clean up the disastrous mess they'd made when Vo came up beside her.

"You're not who you said you were," he said with a wry tone.

"Are any of us?" she answered, turning to smile at him.

"True enough," he chuckled. "This means I don't have to pay you, right?" he asked, dry humor and a bit of amusement coloring his voice.

Aala's answering laughter was soft. "No, you don't have to pay me. Especially not after this," she gestured to the broken bottles, fallen shelves and pools of spilled liquor all over the floor.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he shrugged. "And I can't convince you to stay?" he added after a moment.

Aala grinned. "If I didn't care so much about winning this war, absolutely."

Vo's expression turned serious. "War will leave you with nothing. Whether you win or not."

"I know." Her gaze fell on Jace, sitting at a table across the room. He had only been knocked out for a second, but it had been long enough for Obi-Wan to slap a set of cuffs on him, and he still seemed a bit dizzy. His shoulders were slumped, and his head was in his hands, his bound wrists in front of him.

Obi-Wan came out from the back where he had been reporting to the Council, and cleared his throat as he came up to stand beside her.

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked, nodding her head toward Jace.

"I'm not sure," he said, hand going to his stubbled chin.

She smiled as he grimaced and dropped his hand, and she knew he was missing his beard. "You said Corellia's business was it's own."

"He threatened you," Obi-Wan said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "He attempted to kidnap a Republic agent."

"I won't press charges," she argued, her chin tilting up. "He wouldn't have done anything."

"He shot at me. No thanks to you." Obi-Wan did an admirable job of trying to look hurt, but Aala wasn't fooled.

Laughing, she gave him a wide grin. "You're a Jedi, and a General in the middle of galactic war. If you're not getting shot at, you're not doing your job."

Eyes shining with genuine humor, his hand went to his chin again as he thought it over. "I suppose he's free to go, then," he said, holding out the key to his bindings. "Would you like to do the honors?"

She smirked at him taking the key from his hand. "I suppose I should give him a fair warning?"

"He's unlikely to come across another General as forgiving as me. Or a Republic agent as understanding as you."

She nodded once – he was teasing, but they were all lucky no one had been hurt.

As she approached his table, Jace glanced up at her looking a little bleary eyed and worse for wear, smelling distinctly of alcohol. She held up the key to show him she meant well, then unlocked his bindings and sat down next to him. "How's your head?"

He rubbed at his wrists as the cuffs clattered to the table, though she knew they hadn't been tight.

"Fine."

Keeping quiet, she waited, giving him a chance to explain himself if he wanted. His eyes were downcast even as he finally started to speak, his voice gruff. "I don't trust the Jedi. Actually, I don't trust much of anyone."

"I gathered as much."

"When he came in – I didn't stop to think, I just jumped into action."

Aala folded her hands on the table in front of her, leaning toward him. "That could've ended very badly."

Jace nodded, glancing sideways at her. "You know... for a minute, I thought you wanted me to get away."

"I wanted to not be between the two of you anymore. The rest was up to you."

Jace rapped his knuckles against the table. "Ah, I see."

"He's one of the best, Jace, don't feel too bad about it."

Jace looked over his shoulder, across the room to where Obi-Wan stood, now in conversation with Vo. "Must be nice to have a Jedi wrapped around your little finger."

"He's not..."Aala frowned, and then sighed as she met Jace's skeptical look. She thought about what Obi-Wan had said the night before about not wasting any energy on hiding anything. "It's nice to be on the same side, yes."

Jace gave a quiet snort of laughter, his eyes back on the table before him.

She could feel his cynicism, though if it was for the Jedi or relationships, or both, she wasn't sure. "I'm glad you're on our side, as well," she added softly. Her words were careful and she gauged his reaction. "You're a good informant," she said, and she meant it. "I hope this doesn't affect our relationship."

He finally looked up to meet her gaze and held it, his expression pensive, but she couldn't quite discern what he was thinking.

"That weapon," he said, a dark shadow crossing his face, "what they're talking about – it's evil. It's being built to kill thousands of people all at once."

A shiver passed through her again at his words, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I guess I've been on edge; more so than usual."

"It's all right," Aala said, sighing. "No harm done. I appreciate you telling me. Maybe we can find a way to figure out what's going on.

"What will you do now?" she asked after a moment.

He seemed to think it over, before giving her a tired smile. "I think I'll go home first, clear my name. I have a few friends in high places, and I'm sure there's holo-recordings just waiting to be uncovered." A glint of mischief lit his eyes.

"And I think I'll start the process of taking back control of my family's company. I have a lot of resources there..."

"Good." Aala nodded, giving him a warm smile, which he returned, in part. "Let me give you my code. Just in case... so you can contact me."

"I'll keep you in mind," he agreed after copying it down.

He stood up then, still looking a bit lost, and she smiled up at him from her seat at the table. "I still recommend the back way." He offered his thanks and then he was gone.

Aala sat alone for a minute until Obi-Wan came up behind her. "Ready to go?"

"I should make sure everything gets cleaned up..." she said, looking past him.

Obi-Wan grasped her hand in his own. "Vo told me in no uncertain terms, I was to take you home and... well, make the best possible use of our time."

Aala's eyebrows lifted as she stared at him. "Oh?" And she laughed as he tugged, in jest, at her arm.

Standing up, she nodded to Vo and he raised one hand in goodbye. "Best of luck, little one."

She though she might blush at the hint of affection in his tone. "You too, Vo. Thank you."

Resting his hand on the small of her back, Obi-Wan guided her out the door and they strolled down the corridor toward her hotel. "That went well," she said, giving him a sideways glance.

"A little messy," Obi-Wan agreed, "but the outcome was favorable."

"Maybe we should have had a plan..." Aala frowned. "If you hadn't of come barging in..."

"I'll have you know, I did not draw my weapon first," he interrupted her.

"Mm-hm."

Obi-Wan looked at her. "Do you realize how long you were in that room? An awful long time – and telling him to shoot at me while my lightsaber wasn't even activated..." he cast her a stern look, but she knew he was teasing, so she didn't say anything.

"...your methods are risky, but –"

"But?" she prompted him, her grin widening.

He smiled back. "But you have great instincts."

"Why, thank you, General Kenobi."

As they passed through a thick crowd of people, Obi-Wan fell behind her so they could squeeze through, his hands moving to her hips. He came to walk beside her again, though he left his arm around her, his hand resting gently at her waist.

They continued on in silence for a few moments and again it struck her how the normalcy of it felt so odd to her. "Where are you headed after this?" she asked him.

"Back to base, for now," he replied. "And you?"

"I'm going to Coruscant. I don't like being away for too long... I never planned on going on missions like this."

Obi-Wan looked at her with a question in his eyes as they entered the lift.

"I feel like it's taking me away from the heart of the matter, like it's all a big distraction for me, you know? But everything I've accomplished – it's certainly helped my security clearance," she shrugged. "Not that I need it..." she added, grinning at him.

He shook his head at her as he entered the code to her room and ushered her inside. The moment the door slid closed, she shucked off her shirt and skirt. She felt so uncomfortable in the revealing clothes, it was odd, but she felt less exposed in her underclothes, at least with Obi-Wan.

Laying down, she held her arms out to him, a smile breaking across her face. He complied without further prompting, falling in to bed next to her, and she cuddled up to his side.

"I just hate being all the way out here," she continued.

"Does that have anything to do with all the space travel," he asked with a chuckle as he settled her in the crook of his arm.

"Partly. Although... if I had a personal bed warmer on every trip, I suppose it would be all right."

"Is that what you think of me?"

"It is one of your best assets."

"Body heat? Body heat is one of my best assets?"

"Mmm," she murmured, running her hand under his tunic to caress his chest and stretching her body out along the length of his. "Yep."

"How charming," he said dryly.

Aala couldn't help but giggle, nestling deeper into his warm embrace. Though these days it was always in the back of her mind that this time could very well be the last, they had tonight, and that was what mattered. Being able to pretend to have a normal life for three nights just had to be good enough for now.

As his hand caressed her skin in intimate circles and his fingertips began to find their way under her remaining clothes she felt that familiar flutter his touch had always evoked as her pulse quickened. Soon enough, a few distinct ideas of exactly how they could make the best use of their time sprung unbidden into her mind and she could tell by his appreciative grumble that he knew exactly what she was thinking.


	12. Chapter 12

_- Just like the movies, that's how it will be - cinematic and dramatic, with the perfect ending_

_It's not like the movies, but that's how it should be_

_10._

Aala felt like she was on a roller coaster, both literally and figuratively as the air taxi she was in wove through traffic at full speed on the way to her sister's apartment. She was beginning to regret telling the driver to hurry.

The past few days had been as much of a blur as the buildings they were currently passing in a frenzied rush and she'd experienced as many highs and lows as she would on one of those horrible rides. She felt sick.

The only worry she had now, though, was how much lower they could possibly go - because she had a feeling they weren't nearly there - and how much it would hurt when they hit bottom.

She'd been asleep, maybe not soundly, but asleep, when Bail had called her, the urgency in his voice unequivocal. The Jedi Temple was burning. And he'd been shot at, attacked, when he had gone to investigate. The Jedi were in trouble, and he was going to see what he could do to help.

She had rushed to the bedroom window to see for herself, and indeed, smoke rose in a dark, ominous plume from the direction of the Temple and without thinking she had called Padmé. In part, only because she didn't have anyone else to call, but thank the Force she had.

Padmé had sounded all right at first but she seemed to break down at the sound of Aala's concerned voice and then all she could do was sob and say Anakin's name and all Aala could do was promise she would be there as quick as she could.

As she came through the door, came into the room, her eyes were drawn to Padmé even without any effort on her own part. The lighting was dim, but Aala could see her clearly, perched on the edge of her couch, her shoulders tense, her body forming a tight, rigid line.

When Padmé noticed her, she rose to her feet, years of instinct and formality taking over in the absence of presence of mind. As she stood, her nightgown fell about her slim body, flowy and light - but it didn't fall enough... not nearly...

Her distended belly was so obvious, Aala was frozen in shock. _How did this... How could she..._

Crying again, Padmé didn't seem to notice her sister's reaction, instead she fell into Aala's embrace and Aala shook off her surprise. One problem at a time.

"Anakin said..." Padmé gulped, trying to breathe through the tears, "he said, the Jedi betrayed the Chancellor. They tried to assassinate him, and," she hiccuped," and overthrow the Republic. He said – he said, he's going to end the war. To deal with the Separatists. That I should wait for him."

Aala sat Padmé down on the couch, trying not to let fear overwhelm her with the sheer enormity of what Padmé was telling her. The Jedi had stood, had _sacrificed_, for peace for thousands of years. They would never – but she couldn't think about that now, she couldn't let it paralyze her. That was out of her hands.

And as she sat with Padmé, trying to comfort her, it became so painfully obvious what had been going on in her sister's life, she couldn't believe she had let herself become so blind to it. Images flew into her mind, one after the other, all so clear now in hindsight – Sola teasing Padmé about her boyfriend and Padmé's knowing, secret smile. The time she and Padmé had bumped into Obi-Wan and Anakin, and Aala had been so relieved to see Obi-Wan, after so long a mission, she'd forgotten herself but her glance at Padmé and Anakin had assured her they hadn't noticed.

Padmé's undeniable concern when he was away, her joy when he succeeded... when she'd been sick... when she had started wearing those heavy robes...

Singularly, they could be written off as nothing, meaningless, but heaped together, it was unmistakable.

A startling memory popped into her head then, _how could she have forgotten? _It had been so long ago, only a few months after the war had started. That afternoon when Anakin had come in to Padmé's apartment, completely unannounced...

* * *

"_Honey_,_ I'm –"_

"_Home?" Aala raised her eyebrows and cast a look of disbelief at Anakin as he came striding into the room as if he owned the place._

"_Uh – Aala." He gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Is Padmé..." he trailed off, glancing around the room._

"_She had to take a conference call..."_

"_Ah. I see. Uh, that was just, it's a joke," he tried to explain, "she told me about an old holovid she liked when she was younger, and I teased her for still watching it..."_

"_I remember it well," Aala smiled. "When she was 5 she watched it everyday for a month, I think. It drove me crazy."_

_He laughed, his smile now warm and genuine, and she had no doubt as to why they'd made this one the poster boy or how Padmé could be charmed._

_There was an awkward silence for a moment as they looked at each other. "Can I take a message?" Aala asked, not sure what Anakin might want at this time of day, although it crossed her mind that she had intended to be gone by now if her conversation with her sister had not been interrupted by business from Naboo._

"_I – actually, I have some urgent matters to discuss with her – Security Committee issues. I don't mind waiting – if that's all right with you?"_

"_Of course," Aala gestured for him to sit down._

"_We were just catching up, though there were a few important things I wanted to discuss with her as well, it can wait. I'm sure she expected we'd be done by now..."_

"_I wouldn't want to intrude on any sisterly conversations." Anakin grinned. _

"_They can be quite important sometimes," she said, laughing. Settling back on the couch, Aala regarded him. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked. Obi-Wan had never discussed Anakin much, and Aala had never pried – but she was curious – he was probably the closest person to Obi-Wan and now it seemed clear Padmé was close to him as well._

"_Mmm," his gaze rested on her face for a long moment, then he nodded his head. "I have a step brother actually. But I don't know him at all." Anakin leaned back as well, looking off into the distance. "When I was young, I used to beg my mother for a brother or sister," his smile was sad, and Aala remembered Obi-Wan mentioning his mother had died just before the war had started._

"_I might've begged my mother to take my little sister back once or twice," Aala admitted with a wry grin," when I was young, of course."_

_Anakin chuckled. _

"_Always greener on the other side, hm?" Aala teased._

"_Sometimes its hard to simply accept the way things are," he answered, his voice turning thoughtful and Aala was struck by his sudden seriousness. He seemed to be able to change his mood like the flick of a switch._

_He was looking at his mechanical hand now, and Aala was about to reply when Padmé came bursting into the room like a particularly bright ray of sunshine._

"_Anakin!" she smiled, and Aala saw exactly how happy Padmé was to see him._

"_Senator," he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes._

_He stood and Padmé's gaze shifted back and forth, between Aala and Anakin. "Sorry about that, Queen Neeyutnee had some Senate business that couldn't wait. Could you stay for dinner, Anakin? We haven't had a chance to talk in so long. Is that alright, Aala?" Padmé asked the questions in succession without waiting for an answer, Anakin's charming smile enough of an affirmative for her on his part, apparently._

"_Yes," Aala said, "of course. That would be nice."_

_Dinner was ready shortly and they spent the time in companionable conversation. Briefly, Aala wondered what Obi-Wan was up to – it almost seemed out of place that he was missing – but he had just been appointed to the council, and was no doubt too busy for dinner parties._

_Soon enough the hot topic of security arose and Aala recalled her other reason for visiting, and the fact that it had been Anakin's reason, as well. Likely, the Chancellor had sent him to argue to Padmé the exact opposite point of what Aala was prepared to defend._

_She looked at Padmé then, tilting her head. "You never asked Anakin why he came to see you," she said suddenly._

"_Oh." Padmé answered , and Aala did not miss the exchange of glances between her and Anakin. "Well, he sent me a message. I saw it as soon as I was done with the Queen."_

"_Of course," Aala replied. There was no law against messages, or dinner for that matter, and Aala figured it wasn't any of her business anyway._

* * *

It had been all too easy at the time to brush it off as innocent flirting, friendship, maybe even a relationship like her own with Obi-Wan, but that was naive. She knew Padmé was nothing like her, and Anakin nothing like Obi-Wan. Not in this matter.

It wasn't until much, much later, when Obi-Wan had hinted that he was concerned for Anakin, that Aala had realized it might possibly become a problem. If Anakin's feelings were too strong, beginning to border on attachment... Aala didn't fully understand, but she couldn't deny the look on Obi-Wan's face. She could set it aside, though. They were in the middle of a war. Who had time for a relationship, anyway?

Pulling her back to the present, Padmé grasped her hands tightly, so tight her knuckles turned white, as pale as her face. "Aala, I'm scared," she murmured.

Aala held her breath. "Let's go, then. Let's go away. You and me. I'll take you and we won't tell anyone. We'll be safe and no one will know."

"No," Padmé said. Her voice hardened and there was no room for debate. "You don't – Aala, have you ever been in love?"

"I – " She was just short of stunned with no inkling of how to answer that. What answer could Padmé possibly be trying to get at?

"Tell me the truth, Aala." She pulled Aala's hands into her own lap, tugging on her, holding her attention. "Obi-Wan... Do you love Obi-Wan?"

"I – " Did she love Obi-Wan? She wasn't sure, now. She wasn't sure she even believed in love. It hadn't seemed to do her sister any favors. Her eyes must have glazed over because Padmé was tugging on her hands again, like a child pestering her mother for an answer to some undefinable question.

"You just know, when you know, Aala. It's not something you have to think about. Do the stars align? Does time stop when he looks at you? Can you see your future with him?"

Aala swallowed then frowned at her sister's silly romantic sentiments. "Padmé. They're Jedi." Her eyes flicked down to her rounded belly. "They can't have... this future." A cold sort of anxiety began to seep into Aala. Padmé was so determined, so... disillusioned, and she was beginning to see there was no way this could end well.

"I love him, Aala. I didn't choose this, I love him. You don't understand what that means. You can't understand."

And Aala felt the tears rolling down her own cheeks now, hot and wet, though she didn't know if she was crying for herself or Padmé or the devastation of their lives that now lay in ruins around them.

She didn't even know if Obi-Wan was still alive, though if she closed her eyes and shut everything else out she swore she could feel him.

But Padmé's tears had long stopped, the expression on her face fierce. "I'm not scared for myself, Aala. I'm scared for him."

And Aala saw now, it was so blatant, the two halves of her sister, the lover and the fighter. Something she should've realized a long time ago. She'd been so turned off to love – she refused to see it anywhere, or even admit its existence. And it had cost her her relationship with her sister, her chance to understand her. Maybe her chance to help her.

* * *

As the bright Coruscant sun made its descent to the horizon, Aala sat alone in her apartment, in a chair by the window. The late afternoon sunlight washed across her living room, just about to dip below the tallest buildings of the city skyline. The weather had been a bit erratic since the battle above the planet had destroyed some of the orbital mirrors but today had been the exception_ –_ a bright, clear, sunny day – if only a bit warmer than usual – and it was looking to fade into a beautiful evening. A direct contrast to the turmoil of the lives in the city below, belying the darkness that was already encroaching.

Aala held a cup of caf in her hands, but she hadn't taken a drink, she'd hardly even moved. The sunlight that streamed in through the windows warmed her face but she didn't notice.

She had sat there for almost half an hour before she had made the decision to call Obi-Wan, though she knew she had no time to waste. He had said he would come as soon as he could. And since then, while she'd been waiting, she'd almost called him twice, to tell him not to risk it and she'd almost left once, wanting nothing more than to escape from it all.

As she watched the blue sky turn to pink and gold, the sun reflecting as it fell, she felt like days had passed, though true sunset was still at least an hour away. Suddenly, Obi-Wan sat down on the couch across from her, seeming to appear out of thin air.

Aala blinked once, her gaze meeting his, his eyes expressing his concern, his exhaustion, his determination and it was almost too much.

She looked away, unable to voice what she had called him here to tell him. One thing she had always known about Obi-Wan was his nearly unfaltering patience, and even despite everything, he didn't disappoint her now.

She thought of her sister, her tear stained face an image now burned into her memory; and what she had told her just that afternoon. Obi-Wan had been to see her, and Aala knew Padmé was scared and she knew how much she wanted to fix it – to speak to Anakin and set things right – but Obi-Wan... he would never mislead Padmé... he wouldn't have said what he had told her unless he was certain, 100 percent... and that meant Anakin was...

Her breath caught in her throat and she looked at his face and it was then she knew it was all true. Dread filled her in a way it never had before. This was it then.

She thought of Palpatine, everything he had purported, what she had heard from Bail's office where she had watched the convocation on the HoloNet. The war over... Jedi Rebellion... Galactic Empire...

It was everything they had feared they couldn't imagine.

And her sister was headed straight to the monster's lair.

The muscles in her shoulders shivered, and she closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from somewhere deep inside. "Mustafar." It was only a whisper. Her eyes shifted to the coffee table, unable to meet Obi-Wan's unflinching stare.

He didn't say anything, but sat there for a moment waiting, watching her and then she sensed he was going to leave.

"Please, Obi-Wan," she lurched forward, caf sloshing over the edges of her cup and she looked at him, pleading, hoping there was something he could do, for Padmé. For her baby.

"Please."

* * *

Aala couldn't shake the thoughts of her sister, of what had happened, of what she could've, should have done differently.

The past few days replayed in her mind over and over. The battle, the confusion, the devastation. Obi-Wan's and Anakin's miraculous rescue and crash landing. Obi-Wan going after Grievous. The Temple burning. Her fear. Padmé's admissions and overwhelming grief. Aala's heart wrenching relief when Bail let her know he had found Obi-Wan. Palpatine's speech and the conversation Bail had told her he'd had with Padmé about keeping his head down, waiting it out...

The same person that had been sobbing in her arms had calmly told Bail she didn't think she'd be around long enough to follow any of her own advice.

The thought shook her to her core. The Senator and Anakin's wife. The mother of his child. Two different people, but still her sister. She should've known her well enough to know... And the wife could not help but go to him, she had to, unable to make the rational decision – but the Senator had told Aala, hedged her bets, perhaps. And Aala had only done what she thought she had to.

Darkness filled her small apartment and she couldn't sit at this window anymore, the place where she'd betrayed one half of her sister. She went to the bedroom and tried to lay down, but she couldn't stand it, doing nothing, when the people she cared for most in the galaxy were hurtling through space toward inevitable disaster...

So she went to her office at SBI. And she cleared it out. She deleted her logs, she erased herself from the system. With all the chaos, Dyne was the only one who would ever notice she had left anytime soon, and he was... she was sure he was dead. He'd been so close, but to what she had no idea. If only she hadn't been called away...

Who was she kidding, if she hadn't been called away, she'd be dead, too. She incinerated anything tangible she'd ever touched there and she slipped out unnoticed, heading for Bail's office, intending to do the same. She'd destroy any evidence that they had ever considered opposing Palpatine on any matter.

Lost in a daze, she went about eliminating the past three years of their work, and she could only hope Obi-Wan was able to do something, anything to keep Padmé and the baby safe.

* * *

_As Aala and Obi-Wan were preparing to leave Vorzyd V, their transport had been delayed and they'd found themselves let loose, as it were, on the gaming and entertainment planet, with nowhere to go and nothing to do. _

_Where he'd gotten the idea, or why, she couldn't figure out, but somehow, and she wasn't entirely_ _convinced he hadn't used some sort of _suggestion_, they had ended up at one of the many popular amusement parks and Obi-Wan had convinced her it would be fun to ride the 'Kessel Run,' a giant roller coaster._

_She'd never been on one before, but as the tiny steel car climbed the lift hill, an unfathomable peak for such an unstable looking vehicle, she was pretty sure she hated roller coasters. And by the end of it all she_ knew_ she hated roller coasters. She didn't speak to him for hours afterward, though it was less because she was angry and more because she was afraid of what would happen if she opened her mouth._

_When they had reached the top of that dreadful ascent, with her heart pounding and her breath trapped in her chest, terrified, she'd blindly groped for Obi-Wan's hand. Gripping it tightly, her palms sweaty, she could do nothing else but hope and pray he wouldn't let go of her. And it had been all downhill from there._

* * *

**AN:** Once again, I apologize this took so long! DRL and just taking the time to try to work out every little kink... But I got to meet Ewan yesterday, and it was very inspiring :D He was perfectly nice and lovely in every way, and those eyes... Anyway, I've Fallen (get it?) behind in updating my original Part One ANs with the song title, etc, for the lyrics at the beginning of each chapter, and I will fix it soon, but I wanted to mention this one was Katy Perry - Not Like The Movies, and I'm just in love with it right now. I used it quite a lot for this part, and it just has that right 'feel'_. _I recommend a listen to go along with the reading.

Please, please review! Let me know what you think ;) Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

_-I could follow you to the beginning, Just to relive the start_

_Maybe then we'd remember to slow down, At all of our favorite parts_

_All I wanted was you_

_11.  
_

The hum of a lightsaber slicing through the air was unmistakable – it was a sound Bria had become quite familiar with in the past year – that and the sounds that always followed –

"Bam! Pow! Whakam!

"Take that, you tinnies!"

_Oh dear..._ Bria closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping. _Where on all of Coruscant had he learned that?_ "Ben! Come here please."

The cherubic face of the five year old boy appeared in the doorway that led to the terrace. It was a small terrace and an even smaller patch of synthetic grass, but on the capitol planet it was enough, a lot really, and Bria was proud of it.

She looked at his innocent little face for a moment, trying not to smile. "Please, darling, keep it down, okay? Lily is sleeping."

"Uh! But Mommy!"

"Ben," she warned.

The little boy's shoulders slumped in defeat and he swung his 'lightsaber' around dejectedly hitting it against the ground. "When can I go back to school, mommy?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. Soon, I think."

The battle over Coruscant had been devastating. It had only been a couple of days since, but she had no idea when the schools could reopen. Unfortunately, her husband hadn't had so much as a morning off, though.

He worked near the center of the Senate District; his building had been damaged and he'd only narrowly escaped being buried in the rubble. Overcome with the fear that such a thing could happen _here _at_ home_, she had begged him to take one day off but he insisted he was fine – and the mess left behind would not clean itself up.

And of course, no, they couldn't afford it. So she'd kept quiet, but she knew his back was bothering him. And she knew he would never admit it.

She wanted to call him, as she used to every afternoon, but his comlink had been destroyed and she had kept the extra in case of an emergency with the children. Sighing quietly, she was careful to keep they worry from showing on her face. "Go and play, Ben. I'll make you a snack."

"Okay."

Bria moved about the kitchen, prepping dinner and cutting up fruit for Ben and she didn't notice when the emergency broadcast came on overriding Ben's holovid and she didn't notice when Chancellor Palpatine started speaking, not really listening over the sound of Ben playing outside.

"Bzz."

'_**The Jedi...' **_

"Szhoom._**"**_

'_**conspired to create the shadow...'**_

"Psshhhhht."

'_**grind the Republic into ruin...'**_

_Wait. What? _The words came together in her head and Bria dropped the knife she'd been chopping with and moved to the old couch in front of the view screen. Captivated, she brushed toys aside as she sat down, her heart beating just a little faster than it had before.

'_**But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever. At last, there came a day when our enemies showed their true natures.**_

_**The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power**_**...'**

"Mommy, what..."

"Go to your room." It came out much harsher than she meant and a flash of guilt coursed through her as his face fell. "Sweetheart, can you play in your room for a bit?" She asked, softer.

"But mommy – "

"Why don't you set up that game you like. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay!"

Bria turned up the sound...

'_**...but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled.'**_

_Jedi rebellion? _She truly didn't know what to think. How could it be possible? The Jedi she had met, less than a year ago...

He had been so kind, and thoughtful...

Wanting to take Lily and Ben out and let them play in the sunshine, she'd packed a lunch and a bag for the baby and they had left for the park. Getting there had been nothing short of an expedition. Ben was loud and wouldn't sit still, and Lily, she was sure, had decided to start teething, which included copious amounts of crying and drool, the very moment they'd left the apartment.

As soon as they'd arrived at the park, the baby had needed to be changed, but with the gleaming enormous play structure within view, towing Ben to the 'fresher was not an option. Children were much stronger than they looked.

That was when he appeared, as if from the heavens above. "I wonder if I might be of some assistance..."

Ben had noticed immediately, as Bria had, the telltale brown robe and silver cylinder. "You're a Jedi!" The young boy exclaimed. Bria hadn't even known that Ben knew who the Jedi were, but with the war and all, she resigned herself to the fact that he must have picked it up somewhere.

"I – uh," Bria stuttered. Surely, letting your young son go off with a stranger was not considered good parenting. It was just then little Lily let out a long suffering wail that Bria was not sure her eardrums would ever recover from.

"Yes," she said quickly before the bearded Jedi came to his senses and changed his mind. "Thank you. I'll just be a second."

"We'll be right over there." The smile he flashed her was warm and genuine even as Ben jumped up and down excitedly and began tugging on his robe.

Bria frowned at the memory now, she had not even thought to ask his name. But she knew there had been no 'hatred in his heart'. If the Senate was half as corrupt as she had heard...

Even so, no one was above the law.

Could the Jedi have done what the Chancellor was saying?

As each new worry came to mind, she felt a nervous flutter of uncertainty in her chest and had a sudden desperate aching to talk to her husband. She hoped he would be home soon.

But then she could hear Lily babbling from her crib, and Ben called to her, so she shut off the screen and stood up, rubbing absently at her forehead. Dinner needed to be made, and there were children to be tended to, and life went on.

* * *

'_**The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Republic by assassinating the head of government and usurping control of the clone army. But the aims of would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without elitist, dangerous powers. Our loyal clone troopers contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds.**_

_**The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!**_

_Well, serves them right. The arrogant, self-serving lot of them._

That was Jace Ryen's primary thought. Then an image flashed through his mind – an old bar on a an outer-rim planet and a trusting, unshakeable young woman. The way she had looked at Jace...

And the Jedi – the way she had looked at_ him_ – knowing and innocent, all at the same time. So sure of what she believed, so sure of him. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

"Mr. Ryen?" The soft feminine voice of his secretary over the office comlink broke him from his thoughts and he punched off the radio, not having any interest in listening to the rest of the declaration. "Not now," he answered, grimacing.

Kriffing Jedi. Up until a few months ago he'd only encountered them once before.

His parents murder had been a planet-spanning incident, so heinous and ridden with mystery the Jedi had been asked to aid in the investigation. And they had come to the conclusion within a matter of a few kriffing hours that the 15 year old son was the primary suspect.

Jace understood the theory: the sole living family member, set to inherit billions, was unlikely to escape suspicion, but that didn't negate the trauma of being accused of killing his mother and father. As a reckless and defiant teenager, Jace Ryen was guilty of a great many things, but murder was not one of them. For all their supposed power in The Force, the Jedi who had investigated him hadn't been able to figure that out for too long.

Jace shook his head, pushing those memories back to the depths from which they had surfaced. It had been a living nightmare he had no desire to dwell on. And at the tender age of 16, after a horrible year of interrogations and trials, his personal struggle for innocence came to an end, but no one was any closer to figuring out the dark mystery behind who had killed his parents and he had decided the next time he came across a Jedi...

Well, he'd grown up since then, but the hatred, and he knew deep down, fear, was still there.

Lost in thought, he shuffled the few impersonal items he had on his desktop moving them out of their neat arrangement and back again. The second time he had encountered the Jedi: It had only been a moment, one evening in his life as an informant, but on the back of what he had learned, and in the uncertainty of these dark times he'd decided to rely on his instinct and put his trust in someone. That was not something he gave easily, but he had to admit she had not disappointed him. Kenobi had been, not surprisingly, arrogant and assuming – and the experience had been as humiliating as one would expect – but he had been understanding as well, in the end.

Jace had made it his business to know a lot about people; he did trust Aala and he had not missed any of the looks the two had given each other.

His sharp gaze fell on the top drawer of his expensive Kriin-wood desk where he knew there was a piece of flimsi with a name and a comm code. If anyone asked, nothing more than a way to contact a pretty girl he'd met in a bar...

He wondered if they were together – if they were even still alive. He didn't want any Jedi to be in charge... but an Empire, he didn't want that either. He'd seen evil, he knew what it looked like, what it sounded like.

There were sure to be many, even on Corellia alone, that would agree.

Jace glanced at the door to his inner office, and hit the comm again, "I'm going to be busy for a couple hours," he said to the secretary as he stood up.

The bright light came on as the door slid open to the private room where he kept his more sensitive projects. At the moment, he was working on the listening device he'd made, adapting it to work at a farther range and he hoped, eventually, to make it subcutaneous, as well – a completely undetectable piece of spy technology. The possibilities were limitless in his mind, and it seemed there was no time like the present.

He would continue to fight for his own freedoms. As usual, he just wasn't sure exactly who he was fighting.

* * *

'_**The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated! Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire...'**_

_Collaborators..._

Intent on listening, her full attention focused on the speech, Sola Naberrie took in each word with the studious attention that was her nature, until this point. The full impact of Chancellor Palpatine's meaning hit her like a ton of duracrete.

_Collaborators._ One word, nothing more than a catch-all to prosecute anyone he damn well felt like prosecuting.

She'd felt distinct concern for her two younger sisters for the past three years: As she well knew both their involvement in the war had increased exponentially.

But now, after everything they had done, where would this leave them? Padmé had been a strong proponent, speaking out against the war and even some of Palpatine's own decisions as of late... But Aala...

The words she had spoken to her months ago, words of caring and reverence for one man in particular – seemed like nothing more than a death sentence now.

The first time Aala had called to speak of this she'd told Sola everything about her long relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi – from the end of the blockade, rekindled when Aala moved to Coruscant, years of romantic clandestine rendezvous' – _okay, maybe I'm dramatizing_, Sola thought with a tiny smile – and then how Aala felt she'd truly messed it up. Later, she'd told her they had... talked... and Sola had seen Aala happier than she'd ever been before.

And she knew, because she knew her sister, that Aala was in love and she hadn't realized, not yet anyway, but those things took time.

It seemed it was time they would no longer have.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi and all Jedi were now declared enemies of the Republic; and any collaborators, as well. That meant... surely, they weren't...

Sola's hands clasped together as she bowed her head, hoping against hope. It was not fair, it could not be true. How could the Galaxy be so cruel?

A glance out the window of their cozy kitchen assured Sola her girls were safe and sound, playing in the garden – Ryoo, her dark hair shining in the sunlight, picking the blue and yellow flowers of her namesake with a serious expression, and Pooja, her lighter colored curls bouncing as she giggled and danced around her sister – and she was reminded of Aala and Padmé when they were young. She knew they thought themselves incurably different from the other but she had always seen their similarities more than anything else.

Aala and her keen search for truth; Padmé and her fierce defense of justice. Both fought for the same thing.

The Declaration wore on. Sola's husband came to stand behind her, his hand lifting to press assuredly against her shoulder as he listened with her. Leaning toward him, she was grateful for his solid, unspoken support. Sola was sure Padmé was safe, in the Senate. But Aala, if she was with Obi-Wan, if she was as devoted as Sola suspected, the danger she was in was unspeakable.

Anger and frustration welled up in her. _Galactic Empire _– the mere principal of it went against everything she believed in, every ounce of her wanted to scream in protest. It was pure tyrannical evil.

_Oh, Aala_, she thought, _please be okay._

But more than anything else she feared that by the time she would be able to reach either of her sisters it would be far too late.

* * *

_The call had been sudden, short and nearly unbearable. 'Come now. Urgent.' and a set of coordinates, all in code._

_Aala procured a ship, a small one, from Bail's collection and sat for a whole minute at the helm trying to remind herself what to do. She hadn't had a license in a very long time._

Her vision was blurry. Her heart was racing, but everything was moving in slow motion. She could feel the darkness, it was closing in, choking her.

She hated flying and making her way to this rock in the middle of nowhere hadn't been easy. Especially under trying circumstances.

If she'd had any presence of mind, she would've thought it odd that she seemed to know where she was going. She couldn't have slowed down if she'd wanted to.

_Padmé had to be alright, had to be. She could feel her still... she had to be alright._

There was a corridor, everything was dark and cold. She pushed a door open, turned a corner – what she saw would be burned into her memory forever. Bail and Yoda were off to the right looking through the glass wall in front of them. Padmé was laying on a table in white, bright lights illuminating her still figure. Obi-Wan was with her... pulling the white sheet up and over her head.

Everything stopped. She heard someone cry out – it wasn't until a moment later she realized it was herself. She fell to her knees, sick with anguish – simply unable to hold herself up. Sobbing, she couldn't breathe, tears were already making heavy tracks down her cheeks. Bail rushed to her side, catching her in his arms before she crumpled to the floor. She clung to him, not able to take her eyes off Padmé's motionless form. It would be so easy, too easy to pretend it wasn't her when she couldn't see her face. But she knew.

* * *

When he'd first met her...

Aala had seemed bright eyed and eager, happy and amiable. Everything Bail wanted for this internship, they'd told him. Certainly, she was easy to get along with, she'd proven herself knowledgeable and intelligent from the start as he went over the workings of the office of the Viceroy and the first day had gone well enough.

The next week, the very first issue he assigned her to work with him on, gone was the happy go lucky girl he hadn't thought was right for the job – she turned serious and frank, voicing her disagreement without hesitation. And then she'd flat out told him he was wrong, and he knew this working relationship was sure to work out just fine.

She shared his passion for fighting for what was right in spades, and she worked tirelessly, always in motion. Her sharpness and intuition proved invaluable to him and she was promoted within the year. Thankfully, position didn't matter much to her. The title of Ambassador, while not necessarily precise, gave her access to any number of important places and things – she was like a second pair of eyes and ears, an assistant, an advisor, and over time he was glad to say she had come to be a friend, as well.

Aala was the very definition of pragmatic. Through the best and worst of times she could be unemotional and to the point; commonsensical; efficient.

None of those descriptions seemed to apply to her right now.

He had been the one to tell her Obi-Wan was dead after the ordeal on Jabiim. The shock on her face was instantaneous and transparent, but she remained silent. She grieved on her own and then went back to work.

He'd seen more emotion from her in that one moment, than he ever had, and that was when he knew how she felt about that particular Jedi. He had never been more happy to end up proven wrong about General Kenobi's mortality, because if there was anyone in this galaxy that deserved a bit of happiness, it was her.

The pain on Obi-Wan's face now was as evident to Bail as Aala's reaction to Obi-Wan's death, though he knew both people to be thoroughly schooled in controlling emotion. Overcome with Aala's outpouring of grief, Obi-Wan seemed unable to move.

Bail looked up to him, helplessly; he had never seen her cry – surely, Obi-Wan had at least seen a tear here or there, but it didn't seem he knew what to do now either. Bail watched as Obi-Wan forced his own composure as much as he could and came to her, a purposeful urgency in his step.

As Obi-Wan moved toward her, her gaze was finally pulled away from Padmé's body and then locked on to him. He knelt to the ground in front of her.

"Please," she whispered between sobs. "Please, no..." Bail carefully disentangled himself from her, letting her fall into Obi-Wan's sure embrace. Obi-Wan held her close; she just kept pleading with him to make this not real.

Bail stood and turned away, fighting desperately to hold himself together. He didn't know one person could hold that much pain and sorrow and survive it. Padmé hadn't.

* * *

Two things had always been a struggle for Aala Naberrie: sitting still and letting go of a grudge. With age and experience had come the ability of control – enough to be able to sit through countless meetings, sessions, committees – the worst the Senate could throw at her, but she had never truly had any patience and she doubted she ever would.

Sitting through those countless meetings, sessions and committees, dealing with any variety of personalities, Aala had also learned a lot about controlling her temper. Holding a grudge became irrelevant if you didn't get angry in the first place.

But here in this moment, after everything, she felt like she was thirteen again and she felt like acting like it, too. It just wasn't fair.

Obi-Wan had tried, she knew he had – they had sat together for a long time in that tiny kitchen unit, her hand grasped assuredly in his own, but Aala could not shake the treacherous feelings that were weighing her down.

Now, they were preparing to leave Polis Massa, after what felt like months to Aala, though it had only been hours, and she found herself wandering the corridors of the Tantive aimlessly, restless and angry.

A quiet noise inside a room she was approaching stopped her in her tracks. It was Obi-Wan's voice, she would know that in a heartbeat, but she'd never heard it used in that way, in all the 13 years she had known him. Singing...

She tip-toed to the doorway and peeked in, her breath catching at the scene. Obi-Wan, the features of his handsome face relaxed in a way she hadn't been expecting, was holding one tiny baby in his arms; Aala knew Padmé had given birth to twins, and she knew they were healthy but she admonished herself for not even knowing their names, she hadn't thought to ask.

The soft strains of the simple melody were soothing, Obi-Wan's tone warm and even. She recognized the lullaby he was singing to the little one and wondered where he could have learned it. The baby cooed softly as the song ended and grasped at the air with it's tiny fist. Obi-Wan offered his finger and chuckled as the baby tugged his pinky into it's little mouth.

In that one moment, the ice in Aala's heart melted away, her grief shrank into the background and she could see light again. She could, even if it was just for a minute, forget how it had all ended, to know Padme and Anakin's love had been real, and out of it had come these two beautiful little babies. Maybe... maybe it could be okay. Hope could come in even the smallest of forms.

"They won't bite," the sound of his deep voice startled her. Even his half teasing smile was contagious and she couldn't help rolling her eyes at him.

"You're the one I'm worried about," she said finally stepping into the room.

"Only if you ask nice."

She envied his effortless ability to find levity in any moment. Stopping in front of him, Aala ran her fingertips across the baby's soft forehead then looked over her shoulder at the sleeping form in the cradle behind her.

"They're beautiful..." Her eyes stung with unshed tears.

"This is Leia," he offered, "and that is Luke," he nodded toward the baby boy.

Both were quiet, peaceful... amazing... wonderful. She smiled, "How do you tell them apart?"

He looked at her, his blue eyes piercing. "Their Force signatures - are quite different."

"So, they're..."

"Very strong."

"Well, how do I tell them apart?" she joked and he smiled back.

"May I?" she asked quietly.

"Of course," he shifted the baby into Aala's arms, his movements gentle and slow; and she cradled Leia close to her chest.

"Let me get you a bottle. I think she's hungry; she's been trying to get nourishment from my little finger and I don't think it's working."

As Aala sat down on the sleep couch in the small room, little Leia looked up into her eyes and it was the most incredible experience she had ever been a part of.

* * *

**AN: **_The penultimate chapter! I really hope you enjoy, I put a lot of work/thought into it - as evidenced by the long delay... The song is All I Wanted by Paramore, and it's very lovely and sad :) Please let me know what you think, I appreciate all types of reviews immensely! Thank you for reading!_


	14. Chapter 14

_-We all begin with good intent, when love was raw and young_

_We believe that we could change ourselves, the past can be undone_

_But we carry on our back the burden time always reveals_

_In the lonely light of morning, in the wound that would not heal_

_It's the bitter taste of losing everything that I've held so dear_

_I've fallen..._

* * *

_12._

_"Aala, I'm scared."_

_"Just hold on, Padmé. I've got you."_

"Watch your sister."

Aala lifted her head to glance at Padmé playing on the shore, the gentle waves lapping at her little ankles as she giggled and tried to jump over the swelling water.

"Watch her do what?" Aala muttered, laying down again on the blanket and lifting her holobook up in front of her.

"Aala." The tone of her mother's voice left no room for argument, but her annoyance peaked and she thought she'd give it a go anyway.

"Why do _I_ have to watch her?" she asked as she sat up, turning to face her mother. Then she noticed Sola waiting patiently in the distance and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to go for a short walk, have a talk; this is our last chance to spend some time together before she goes back to University tomorrow."

Aala huffed."I still don't see why Sola had to move away. There's a school right near where we live! Why isn't that school good enough?"

"Aala." Her mother's face softened as she kneeled down to touch Aala's arm. "We've discussed this already. I promise you'll understand when you're older."

"I'm thirteen now! Is that why I can't talk with you and Sola? I'm not old enough?" The conversation she'd had with her father when Sola left for school seeped to the forefront of her thoughts. _Time to grow up, time to decide what you're going to do._

"That has nothing to do with it, darling. I think you're very mature; I'm putting you in charge of Padmé, aren't I? She's your responsibility while we're gone, alright? We won't be long."

Aala let out a long dramatic sigh. "Fine." She watched a moment as her mother and older sister strolled down the path, then turned back to the lake to where her little sister was still playing. "Padmé!" she shouted. "Don't go out past the shoreline, okay?"

"Okay!" came the young girl's reply and Aala settled back down with her book.

It was only a few minutes later, the sound of splashing registered somewhere in the back of Aala's head, and she knew that sound could not be coming from where Padmé had been playing before, barely touching the water. When she glanced up and Padmé was not where Aala expected to see her on the shore, she sprung to her feet, her holobook forgotten in the sand.

It was there, about 10 yards in, right where she knew the bottom dropped off, that she saw Padmé's head dip under the water.

Fear flooded her mind and she cursed under her breath as she sprinted for the water. _What is she doing? She knows how to swim..._

_Panicking... _she answered herself. _A little girl, panicking_. And her mother's words played over and over – she's your responsibility, watch her. _Your responsibility_.

Aala felt tears began to prick in her eyes just as she jumped in the lake, and Padmé's head popped up, just for a moment, her arms flailing in the water.

"Aala!" she cried and then she slipped back under.

_Please don't die. Please don't die. _Her father was right. She was too young, too irresponsible, she would never be as good as Sola. She would never be as perfect as Padmé. _Please don't die._

Diving under the water with ease, she wrapped an arm around Padmé's waist and drug her back to the surface.

"Padmé!" she called when they broke free, and Padmé coughed and she spluttered, but she was breathing. She was okay.

"Aala," she cried again as Aala slowly began swimming back to shore.

"It's alright," Aala managed. She kept her arm tight around her waist, pressing Padmé's back into her chest, making sure she couldn't drag them both back under but she felt exhaustion starting to kick in, her muscles weakening with the strained effort. Just a bit farther.

_"Aala, I'm scared."_

"_Just hold on, Padmé. I've got you."_

_But they were slipping under, being pulled downward, descending into an abyss of darkness together. It was hopeless, there was nothing Aala could do._

She knew it was a dream, she knew she was dreaming, but she couldn't pull herself awake, she couldn't escape it, couldn't turn away.

It was like watching a shuttle crash, horrible but fascinating.

And then it turned, it turned into _her_ shuttle crash, and in contrast to the clammy coolness of the water, now she could feel the heat of the fire licking at her skin. This particular nightmare always started with heat. Often she'd wake, sweaty, to find all the blankets had been piled on top of her, or Obi-Wan was holding her too close, and she'd remember it wasn't real, she'd already survived it. It was over.

And she knew she was dreaming, but just the same she was _there_. The acrid smell of hot metal filled her nostrils. There was a painful kink in her side like she'd been running too fast, running for miles, and if only she could stretch out her muscles and take a deep breath, the pain would ebb, she knew it would, but she couldn't move. When she tried, nothing happened and panic flooded her mind once again, and she tried to scream, but she couldn't do that either.

_This is a dream_._ It was a dream and she'd already survived it, it was over. _

And like a ghost she separated from it, drifted away, and then she remembered waking up in the medcenter. Everything hurt, her entire body ached with a pain she couldn't describe and she desperately tried to force herself back into unconsciousness but someone was talking.

"She was lucky." The voice sounded distant, like they were underwater, the sound tinny and distorted._ Lucky? This was lucky? _Surely lucky could only feel like this in hell.

"Yes, she was."

But no, that was her mother. Aala could feel her, and she knew then this could not be any place bad.

"The metal that pierced her torso, it was bad, but it didn't damage anything vital." The healer continued his speech sounding like some odd voice over to a bad holo-vid. "And it pinned her where she was, it kept her from moving, and it - held her body together. It kept her from bleeding to death. There were only two other survivors, they were thrown clear of the wreckage, and weren't critically injured. We were able to concentrate most of our resources on her."

So she was lucky because everyone else had died.

How could that be possible? How could she be one of the only ones that lived? Why her? Was she meant to suffer? Was it only coincidence? Did this mean she was supposed to do something important with her life?

She couldn't. Not her. She couldn't change the galaxy. That was for Padmé.

_Padmé... _

Burning heat teased her flesh again. Made her skin tingle and she felt drops of sweat sliding down her back. And she was pinned in that destroyed shuttle but instead of the fading, hazy memories, now she was wide awake. Her eyes snapped open and Padme was in front of her, right in front of her, trapped in a circle of flames. "Please. Please, Aala," she cried. "Please help me."

"Yes." She was determined. Padme was her responsibility. She was supposed to protect her. "Just hold on Padme. I'm coming." Aala pushed at the twisted metal wrapped around her mid section, she shoved and heaved with everything she had but nothing happened.

The blaze seemed to intensify, it spread, turning into liquid magma at their feet. "Aala, I'm scared."

Aala was crying herself now, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. "No," she sobbed. Twisting her body, she squirmed, trying to push up, trying to get out, but she couldn't. She kicked and screamed. "No!"

Hazy dark smoke started to fill the air until she could barely make out Padme's tear stained face. The flames leaped higher, hotter than ever.

"No!" She cried out in frustration. "No, Padme."

And with a gasp she awoke. Obi-Wan was cradling her head to his chest and stroking her hair. Aala took in great big gulps of air and tried to calm her racing heart.

"Shhh, it was just a dream." Obi-Wan murmured, his hand rubbing comforting circles over her back. "Shhh."

A dream. It was a dream. Just a dream. It wasn't real, she was here... here... on the Tantive. With Obi-Wan... Padme. Padme was gone... the twins...

"Oh!" Aala pulled back abruptly to look past him. "Did I cry out? Did I wake them?" The twins, Padme's babies. Aala had been resting on the sleep couch, reluctant to leave them. She must've cried out loud and Obi-Wan had heard and come for her.

"No," Obi-Wan said as he looked over his shoulder. "They're asleep still. Come."

He took her hand as he rose from the couch, urging her to go back to bed with him.

"No, I can't, I have to -"

"Come, Aala, they're asleep. It's only been an hour since they last ate. You need to get some rest."

"But what if they need something," she whispered, reticent.

Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the door. "I'll feel it in the Force." He assured her. "I promise I'll wake you as soon as they need you."

She gave one last lingering look at Luke and Leia, each in their own cradle and then leaned into Obi-Wan, hardly able to hold herself up. "Alright."

* * *

"Aala. Aala..."

"Mmmmm... Mmhm."

"Wake up, Aala."

"Mmmmmm." She groaned, not wanting to leave the peacefulness of deep sleep, but he touched her shoulder again, and she rolled over. "Hm?"

"It's been a couple hours. We should feed them."

Aala sighed, her tiredness overwhelming, and she couldn't quite seem to shake the cobwebs from her mind. _Feed them? What in the..._

The babies. She sat up then, trying to listen. "Are they crying?"

"No, not yet, but they should have another bottle. Newborns need to eat every three hours, at least."

"How do you know that?" She frowned at him. How, after 13 years, were there still things she didn't know about _him_.

His only answer was a soft smile.

Aala groaned again, pushing back the covers. Stars' end. Every three hours? Even if they weren't crying? But this was her only chance, this one night.

Rubbing at her eyes, she pulled herself out of bed, following Obi-Wan back to the room where the twins were sleeping. As the soft yellow nightlight came on, she could see Luke was indeed still asleep, but Leia was awake, her little fists waving haphazardly above her.

She went to Luke this time, leaning over the cradle and running her hand over his downy hair. Pausing, she looked to Obi-Wan and he nodded, so she picked him up slowly and held him close to her chest. Obi-Wan handed her a bottle and she settled on the sleep couch, arranging pillows around her. Luke took the nipple of the bottle in his mouth and began to suckle without even opening his eyes.

As Obi-Wan sat down with Leia, Aala turned, stretching her legs across the couch and pressing her bare feet against Obi-Wan's thigh so she could watch them as well as Luke. She fought the urge to yawn as fiercely as she fought the dark thoughts that constantly threatened to surface, instead trying to focus on the three beautiful people she was sharing this tiny room with.

"The war's over..." she murmured after a long moment of peace.

His mouth drew in a tight line and he sighed before he looked at her. "You were right, Aala. I never should have made you a promise I wouldn't be able to keep. I shouldn't have..." he trailed off.

Though neither had said it out loud... they both knew... Aala would stay on Naboo with her family and Obi-Wan – would not. His vow was made, the path laid.

"It's the thought that counts." She tried to smile at him, but she was sure it came out kind of wobbly. She knew he felt he had given her nothing, but he had given her more than she had ever hoped for and she felt she needed to make him see that. "My – 'ex'... he offered those things – a family, stability, a normal life – but it was hollow, it meant nothing. I would've been miserable with him. You've always been there for me in a way he didn't understand, and that's really all that matters. Maybe in another life... we'll get more time..."

"I'm so sorry, Aala."

They were quiet again, for a long time, and as she looked on Luke and Leia, Aala couldn't help but think it should be Padmé here, enjoying these moments. She tried to picture her sister, smiling, laughing, but it was so hard now. How long it would be before the image of her sister faded completely from her memory? Maybe if she kept having nightmares... she felt like that was all she had left of Padmé.

"The nightmares..." she murmured quietly to Obi-Wan.

"The crash?" he asked.

Aala nodded. "Yes. But now Padmé's there... and the lake... You know, I told her once, I had nightmares about that, and she didn't even remember it."

"Sometimes the ones we care for don't realize what we've done for them, but it doesn't make it any less important."

Luke finished his bottle first and as Aala cradled him to her shoulder, rubbing his back, he burped and Aala felt something warm. Looking to Obi-Wan with wide eyes, she noticed both the amused glint shining past the exhaustion in his eyes and the precautionary cloth on his own shoulder. Her eyebrows knitted together in admonishment, but then she couldn't help but laugh. "You have to tell me these things," she muttered with a small grin. "I don't know what I'm doing here, and apparently you do, somehow."

Offering an apologetic smile, he leaned over to wipe the spit up from her arm.

Shifting Luke to lie in her arms again, she watched as he fell back asleep, and she knew, he wouldn't remember her, feeding him in the middle of the night, holding him, but Obi-Wan was right, it didn't matter.

Knowing they were only hours away from Naboo now, she made no move to put the baby back in his cradle and she thought of her family – Sola, her nieces, her parents... Closing her eyes, she dreaded what was to come.

Obi-Wan's hand fell on her knee, trying to reassure her with an affectionate squeeze and she looked up at him.

"What am I going to tell them?"

* * *

"_Something went wrong." Her head bowed in sorrow; she couldn't look her father in the eye, couldn't lie to her mother's face._

"_There was an – accident." The tears were coming now, streaming down her face._

"_The Jedi...?" her father began to question, and she nodded quickly, before he could finish. Sola, as still as a statue, looked on from behind their parents and Aala could not bear the unspoken doubt in her distraught stare._

'You must tell them this,' _Obi-Wan had said. _'It will protect you. The Emperor will say the Jedi killed her on Coruscant. You have to back this up.'

_She could never tell them what really happened, and she couldn't stand it any longer. Falling into her father's arms, he held her tightly like she was a little girl. They didn't ask her anything else._

* * *

_Never had Aala seen Padmé look more beautiful. The sun had set only minutes before, and the light grew dim as the clouds changed colors in the sky. The yellow light of the lanterns began to glow, scattered in the crowd of thousands and the buildings along the street. Padmé was radiant; little white flowers strewn in her dark hair, like they were floating around her._

_Aala's eyes settled, again and again, on Padmé's rounded, empty stomach and she prayed for those children. She prayed her sister had finally found the peace she couldn't find here._

* * *

They stood, Obi-Wan and Aala, facing each other, in the empty white corridors of the Tantive IV as if in some sort of limbo.

He finally reached for her, taking her hand in his own and grasping it tightly.

"Aala..."

Something in his voice broke, and it took her breath away. He looked so unsure, and it was so unlike him, she was lost. He took a step toward her, but still seemed unable to find the right words and the only thing she could think of was to throw her arms around him, anchor herself to his solid form, and she hoped she was providing something of the same measure of comfort for him.

"It's so unfair," she whispered as she pressed her face against his shoulder and he hugged her tighter, his arms encircling her waist. Pulling back to look at him, she fought the sting of tears she could feel and swallowed thickly. "I should've tried... I should've made her –"

"Aala, it's not your fault," he interrupted her. "You have to know that. Her decisions were her own. It's not your responsibility."

She nodded her head. "I –," she wished she could voice the same words back to him, ease the tension she could see around his blue-grey eyes, take away the pain she knew he was feeling inside, but she couldn't think. "It hurts so much."

"I know," he answered and he pressed his lips to her forehead, weaving his fingers into her blond hair and embracing her again.

Aala was overcome with emotion: fear, sadness, worry, hope, love. They were each so raw and clear in her mind and it was overwhelming and she knew Obi-Wan was right. Padmé's actions were her own, she had ceased being her responsibility a long time ago; and she only hoped Obi-Wan would come to realize the same about Anakin.

"I couldn't have done this without you," she said to him. "Losing Padmé, I wouldn't have been able to bear it, if I didn't have you, if you hadn't have been here." It was so obvious, the strength he had given her for so long, what he meant to her.

"I feel the same way," came his quiet reply.

"I love you," she professed, tears rolling down her face and she was taken aback by the sound of the words, by the truth she felt behind them, but even more so by the lack of surprise on Obi-Wan's face.

Smoothing her hair back, he held her head in his hands, his thumbs brushing the tracks of wetness from her cheeks. "I love you, too."

"What? How?" She breathed, astounded by his surety.

"You made it easy," he teased her. "No commitments, no expectations..."

"Don't make fun of me," she scolded him for using her own silly words against her, but she was smiling and looking at him and she realized she couldn't remember the last time he had kissed her. It seemed imperative now to correct that.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when he pulled her toward him, tilting his head to the side and sealing his mouth over hers. It was nothing at first, just their lips pressing together, the tickle of his beard on her skin, then it deepened, the desperation of a kiss goodbye taking hold. And then he pulled back and swept his lips across hers, soft and lingering: an admission. Again – an assurance. Again – a promise.

And she knew, this could not be the end. This would not be all they had. This man would hear many more 'I love you's' from her; he had to, he'd earned it. Somehow, sometime, there would be more. She could not give up on love now, not now that she had finally found it.

Pulling her tight again, he pressed his face into her hair and whispered in her ear. Barely moving her head, she nodded once then looked into his eyes one last time.

"What will you do?" He couldn't help but ask, she knew.

"Go home, for now." The Jedi could not have peaceful, domestic lives, and neither was she meant to, but Padmé had let love rule her, and despite everything, she'd given Aala the chance to have a taste of it. Hope and love now swelled in her heart more than anything else. "And dream of a galaxy where you're just you, and I'm just... I."

He gave her a warm smile, and she thought she could see tears begin to well in his eyes.

"I wish..." she began. There were so many things she wished for, but she wasn't sure any of it needed to be voiced out loud.

"I know," he sighed, and she was reminded so acutely of how well he knew her.

And then Obi-Wan kissed her one last time before she turned and walked away.

* * *

_I picture you in the sun, wondering what went wrong_

_And falling down on your knees asking for sympathy_

_And being caught in between all you wish for and all you seen_

_And trying to find anything you can feel that you can believe in_

_I know I would apologize if I could see your eyes_

_Cause when you showed me myself, you know, I became someone else_

_But I was caught in between all you wish for and all you need_

_I picture you fast asleep, a nightmare comes, you can't keep awake_

_May God's love be with you_

_Always_

* * *

**AN:** Well. I'm not sure what to say. I can hardly believe I've done this, it's been playing in my head, for so, so long, and it's come out so different, and so much more than I ever had planned.

I'm as fantastically happy with this as I could possibly be and I'm excited to do more – Aala's story is far from over. I've got some ideas of what else I'd like to try, but I would absolutely **love** to hear what you guys think! What should Aala do now? What do you want to see?

I included lyrics from two lovely, sad songs. The first is _Fallen_ by Sarah McLachlan, my title song and the last:_ In the Sun _by Joseph Arthur. As always, I recommend a listen. I wish I could just embed the songs in the story! But at the very least try _In the Sun,_ it captures the feel I want for the end of this story with perfection.

This story would not be what it is now without the never ending support, encouragement, kind urging, help, comments, reviews, talent, skill, creativity, etc, etc, etc, of laloga. I can not put into words what our writing friendship means to me, so I'll just say thank you. Thank you. Thank you. If you haven't read her work, you are truly missing something fan-kriffing-tastic!

Many, many thanks to** all** my readers and reviewers. I appreciate all your comments so much! Any and all type of feedback is welcomed, I'd really like to hear what you think, especially now that it's complete.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm back! :D The response I received after posting the last chapter was so fantastic, I couldn't help but want to thank everyone again for making this a really, really great experience. Reviews are so, so important (they are true sustenance for authors!) and I've appreciated every single review I've received so much. I've replied individually to those I can, but I wanted to reply to everyone, one more time!

Many, many thanks to:

Obiwanabi, RKF22, Azura Soul Reaver, Chloe – thank you for taking the time to let me know you're reading! It means a lot.

Nia – I'm so glad you've enjoyed my story so much, thanks for the reviews!

Valairy Scot – your feedback means a lot to me, thanks for leaving a comment :)

Danielle – I'm happy you loved the story, I've put a lot of work into making Aala a real character, thank you for letting me know you liked her!

Charliebrown1234 – my first consistent reviewer :) your comments have been so helpful and fun to read, I can't thank you enough for the help and wonderful feedback!

Laloga – I'm just so happy we found each other, lol. Thank you for reading my story, thank you for every single review, all the effort and thought you've put into every response from the very beginning, thank you thank you thank you :)

Sachariah, Queen – I'm so glad and grateful you both decided to give my story a shot even though I hardly mention the boys at all :) Such wonderful, thoughtful reviews are truly priceless and have made me very happy :)

So the good news is... I know AN chapters are very not allowed, so I've put together a little epilogue to make this a legitimate post :) It's just a few little parts – the first three are scenes I had written but didn't quite make the cut or fit right, and the fourth sprung from one line I couldn't quite fit in and I've added it as a bit of a lead it to the next story. Speaking of the next story – my plan is to post a teaser for a sequel as the next part of Dozen, and then to start on the sequel from there. Hopefully, I'll have the next piece ready in a couple weeks, but of course there's the author alert if you want to be sure not to miss it!

The sequel will be a lot of fun, but for those of you who would like to see a HappiER Ever After, I've had an idea for an AU rolling around in my head for awhile, and I'm very much looking forward to taking a stab at that, and really, that could lead me anywhere.

Thank you so much for reading!

* * *

_"Where were you last night?" Queen Amidala asked her sister. She was sitting in front of her mirror applying the traditional white makeup that hid her young face._

_"I was just out," Aala shrugged. "Don't worry. Your Jedi rescued me from absolutely nothing." Aala attempted to keep the sharp tone of irritation from sounding clearly in her voice, determined not to argue despite her overwhelming weariness. The last thing Padmé needed right now was an ungracious sister. But Aala's nerves were frayed, she was exhausted and scared and anxious for this situation to be over._

_"He's not _my_ Jedi," Padmé said, glancing at her sister in the reflection of the glass. "I was worried. I didn't know where you were." Her regard was astute, her features composed._

_Aala sighed, finally meeting Padmé's stare. She seemed so much older, especially when she was adorned as the Queen. Nothing like the little girl Aala had left behind. "I'm sorry. Just don't send _him_ after me again. He was quite rude."_

_"Rude?" Padmé cocked her head as she shifted to look at Aala._

_"Yeah."_

_"Hmm." Padmé turned back to the mirror. "He has been through a lot."_

_"Like what?" Aala was skeptical._

_"Well, his Master was killed, and –"_

_"His Master?" she interrupted._

_"Yes, he was only just knighted a Jedi. He was an apprentice to Qui-Gon Jinn."_

_"Oh..." Aala did not consider herself an expert on the Jedi Order by far, but she knew enough... What she had said – the look in his eye when she had implied he wouldn't know anything about losing someone close to him. "Oh." Her shoulders slumped._

_Padmé turned around again, fixing her with a flinty stare. "What did you do?"_

_Aala sighed, no wonder he was terse. She had deserved every bit of it. "I just –" she shook her head and sighed again. "I owe someone an apology."_

* * *

_Aala headed off in search of Obi-Wan but she didn't really expect to find him. There were a great many places in the palace she wasn't allowed to go, and she assumed those were the most likely places for Obi-Wan to be._

_Wandering, she took the time to admire the art in the halls, had dinner with her sister, then wandered some more, keeping an eye out for the Jedi. It wasn't very late into the evening before she decided to head to the gardens. Not daring to go outside again, and not wanting to cause Padmé more worry, the gardens were the next best thing and still within the safety of palace walls._

_It was only a moment after she arrived, she spotted Obi-Wan sitting on a bench at the end of a path that led to a short, clear waterfall. His head was turned away from her, his eyes on the water as it danced over the slick rocks, and she made a conscious effort to be inconspicuous so she could watch him for a moment. They seemed destined to keep meeting this way, and she felt she could sense his sadness._

_Taking a step toward him, she wondered how to get his attention without startling him just as he turned toward her._

_"Hi," she said, trying to express a little friendliness._

_"Hello." He stood up._

_She came to stand in front of him but wasn't sure exactly what to say. "May I join you?"_

_"Of course," he answered quickly._

_When he sat down next to her she took a deep breath, then turned to face him. He was watching her quietly._

_"I –"_

_Apologizing wasn't easy for her, she felt she had a right to her feelings, but she knew she had taken her frustration out on him unfairly. "I wanted to apologize... for the way I acted last night. When I said you wouldn't understand... well, Padmé told me what happened and I..." she looked down at her hands then back into his eyes. "I'm really sorry."_

_Her breath hitched as she looked at him – he had the most engaging, piercing blue eyes, intense and soft all at the same time._

_"It's alright," he said, his tone gracious. "I know, this has been hard on all the people of Naboo."_

_"No." Aala shook her head. "I was selfish and inconsiderate. You shouldn't let me off so easy."_

_The air was still as he seemed to scrutinize her for a moment, and she realized she was holding her breath. "I suppose you were quite difficult."_

_Blinking once, she was a bit surprised, but then she caught the glint of humor in his expression. "Yes," she grinned. "I apologize."_

_He smiled back. "Apology accepted."_

_She nodded and they fell silent. The quiet was not awkward, but comforting and she let herself relax completely in the peaceful setting. He was sitting, with his eyes closed now, and she felt a sudden deep longing to know him. To connect with him, somehow._

_"I really am very sorry about Master Jinn. I can't imagine..."_

_Obi-Wan nodded, a pained look crossing his face and then she was sorry she had brought it up again. _Kriff.

_"I just – if you want to talk to someone..." Aala closed her eyes as her sentence trailed off. _How silly, he hardly even knows me, why would he want to talk to me? Be quiet, Aala,_ she said to herself,_ just be quiet.

_But then he covered her hand with his own, and he waited until she met his sincere gaze. "Thank you."_

_Looking at him, she felt caught in an impossible moment, his thumb brushed across her knuckles and her breath caught in her throat. But as suddenly as it had started, the moment was over. He pulled his hand away and she felt ridiculous sitting there staring at him._

_"I should get back," she said, wringing her hands together, but smiling "If we're both out here, my sister won't have anyone to send."_

_Obi-Wan stood with her, nodding politely, and then she turned and walked away._

* * *

"Tell me something about him."

Aala shifted her eyes from her journal to her older sister now sitting in the chair across from her. "About who, Sola?"

"You know who," Sola laughed. "The mysterious Jedi Knight that somehow managed to capture your tightly locked away heart."

"Ha, ha."

"You haven't talked about him at all, except to tell me he was fine..."

Aala tried to suppress the grin that was just now barely lifting the corners of her mouth. It had been four long months and Sola had been relentless in keeping her spirits up.

Thinking for a moment, she glanced out the window. Honestly, her more recent thoughts regarding Obi-Wan, after so long of feeling very alone and lovelorn, tended to take a particular direction of a more personal nature more often than not – the way he looked at her when he wanted to kiss her. The way his fingertips felt on her skin.

Smiling, she tried to think of something a little less intimate... "Hmmm..." she turned back to Sola, "he hates Warra nuts."

"Nuts?" Sola asked, giving Aala an 'are you kidding me' look. She was obviously hoping for something a little _more_ intimate.

Aala chuckled. "Yes. Some ridiculous politician – I don't even remember who – gave him a whole box as some sort of token of gratitude once. He practically begged Obi-Wan to try them on the spot – they were supposed to be gourmet, expensive or something, and the ever polite, well mannered Jedi Master could not refuse. I will never forget the look on his face."

Sola laughed, and Aala couldn't help but join in, remembering the immediate look of displeasure that had crossed his features before he could check himself.

"What did he do with the box?"

"Ah, I saved him." Aala smiled. "I shared it with Padmé."

Aala's gaze drifted back out the window, and Sola stood, coming to sit beside her on the couch. "Thinking about her?" She asked after a few minutes.

Aala nodded, then swallowed. "I can't remember the last time I told her I loved her. I think about her all the time..." There was so much she couldn't put into words. So many hopes she hadn't even known she'd had for the future until it was all taken away.

Sola wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulders and hugged her. No words passed between them, but the message was clear to Aala.

"I didn't realize," Aala spoke up after awhile, "until afterward, how much I really loved him." She shrugged then cast a small, pleased smile toward Sola. "But I'm happy there was at least one thing I did right."

* * *

_The unthinkable moment was interrupted when Bail stepped into the empty, white corridor. "I'm sorry," he paused, mid-step._

_It took all her willpower to break the gaze she shared with Obi-Wan. "No, it's alright."_

_He smiled compassionately, and she truly didn't mind his disruption – she was so grateful for his support, everything he'd done._

_"I could still use your help, you know," he offered._

_But it was too much, she couldn't deal with the rest of the galaxy right now. "I know... I – miss my family. I've missed so much, and it would probably be best if I just quietly faded into the background," she stole a glimpse of Obi-Wan. "I wouldn't want to draw attention to anyone."_

_"I understand." He paused another moment, looking from Aala to Obi-Wan, then back again. "Everything's ready," he said, indicating in the most delicate way he could that it was time to go._

_Aala took a step toward him and Bail drew her into a tight embrace._

_"Take care of her," she said softly, her voice muffled._

_"I promise." he said, giving her a reassuring smile._

_"And you'll tell her... Her mother loved her very much?"_

_"Of course."_

_And then Bail left, and Aala, anxious and unsure, turned slowly back to Obi-Wan._

* * *

Flicking the com on, Aala was unprepared for the rush of emotion she felt at the image of Bail Organa in front of her – the warm, kind expression on his face, and the knowing, understanding glint in his eyes.

Feeling a little choked up, she was unable to return his kind greeting, instead nodding and giving him a watery smile. The relief she felt, just to be in the presence of someone who knew, someone she didn't have to lie to or pretend for, was like a giant weight off her narrow shoulders. It was unfair, it was not her family's fault, but she felt more like herself sitting here with Bail than she had in months.

"I must apologize," he said, in his deep, refined timbre, "for not offering my condolences in person sooner. We thought it best to let your family have a bit of peace and privacy for awhile."

"Of course." Her voice was rough, and she cleared her throat. "Thank you."

"How are you?" he asked carefully. The words didn't matter, they were neutral and vague, but it didn't matter. She knew Bail well enough to know how much he cared, and it meant more to her than she realized it would.

"I'm okay. I've been spending a lot of time with my sister and my nieces and we're – we're getting by."

"Glad to hear it," he smiled at her.

"I've missed you, Bail. I –" she wasn't sure what else she wanted to say. She was sorry for how things had turned out? She was sorry for not contacting him sooner? Those words seemed inadequate to express what she was feeling.

"I missed you too, Aala."

It was alright, it didn't matter, he understood.

They were quiet a moment – Aala felt the need to collect herself, then she couldn't hold back the question that had been nagging at her for so long.

"Congratulations on the addition to your family," she brightened, giving an honest smile as she thought of Leia. "How is she? Her name is Leia, right?"

Bail smiled back, the fatherly warmth she knew would come easy for him so evident on his face. "She is very well, healthy and happy. I can't believe how fast she's growing, and she's so smart, I can tell already."

"Can I – meet her?"

"Of course. I know Breha would like to say hello as well."

He looked over his shoulder, off screen, and Aala could hear baby Leia cooing and babbling before she could see her. Then Breha sat down next to him, holding a baby in a pretty white gown, that honestly, to Aala, looked nothing like the newborn she had last seen almost five months ago.

"She's so big!" Aala exclaimed before she could think better of it.

Bail chuckled softly, taking the baby to sit on his lap so Aala could see her.

Leia waved her tiny fists and shrieked as she looked at the screen, and Aala had to bite her lip as she began to tear up. _Could Leia possibly recognize her?_ She doubted it, but then she'd never been around a Force sensitive baby before.

"She's beautiful, Breha. I'm so happy for you both." And she truly meant it. If there were any two people who deserved to be happy parents more than Bail and Breha, Aala didn't know of them.

And then Leia was shrieking and babbling again, and the adults laughed obligingly. "And quite vocal, too." Bail added, a knowing look in his eye.

"Hmm..." Aala grinned. "Think she'll grow out of it?"

"Somehow, I doubt it."

They chatted for a few minutes, gushing over Leia, and Aala felt a deep joy she hadn't felt since she wasn't sure when.

"It's almost time for a nap," Breha announced finally, gathering up Leia in her arms. "It was very nice to see you, Aala," she added, her voice full of sincerity.

Aala nodded, and then Breha and Leia were gone.

"Unfortunately, I have quite a bit of business to get back to," Bail said after they had left. "But there was one more thing I wanted to ask you."

"Of course," Aala answered.

"Our annual ball is coming up soon, I'd very much like to send you an invitation, but I wanted to talk to you first. I know it's a lot to ask right now..."

Something about the tone of his voice, and the look in his eye made it very clear to Aala he was asking a lot more than just her appearance at a ball.

_I could still use your help, you know._

Aala held her breath. She thought of Obi-Wan. Of Padmé. Of Luke and Leia and the hope they gave her for the future – how defenseless and innocent they were, and would be for a long time.

"Yes." She nodded. "Yes, of course. I'll be there."


End file.
